


Tatooine Sunsets

by marly4077



Series: Tatooine Trilogy [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Alderaan, Coruscant, Force Visions, Gen, Holocron, Jedi, Lightsabers, Mos Eisley, Multi, Rebellion, Rebels, Sith Holocron, Tatooine, Tosche Station, dagobah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marly4077/pseuds/marly4077
Summary: For nineteen years, Obi-Wan Kenobi carved out a life for himself on Tatooine, watching over Luke Skywalker from afar, building a home with his beloved Mayli, and raising his daughter Zella Rey.  The arrival of a former foe, bearing a Sith holocron, a data chip of battle station plans, and an impossible idea, shatters this peaceful existence, revealing to Obi-Wan his ultimate destiny.  The final story in my Tatooine Trilogy.





	1. Father-Daughter Jedi Training

**Chapter One**

**Father-Daughter Jedi Training**

Obi-Wan Kenobi smiled gently as he looked up at the ceiling of his bedroom, light from the first sunrise peaking in through the nearby window.  Alone in the room, he listened to his two favorite sounds, the voices of his wife (in all things except legality, of course) and daughter, who spoke together in the nearby dining area, Obi-Wan imagining their usual cups of caf in front of them. 

            Catching passages of conversation, he knew they spoke of the future, the grand adventure the Kenobi family now planned.  Then he heard one of them rise, moving toward his room.  Suddenly, Mayli, his darling mate, entered.

            “Hey sleepy head,” she said, leaning down to kiss him, placing a steaming cup on the table next to their bed. 

            Obi-Wan kissed her back as he shifted to a sitting position.  Over eighteen years together, here on Tatooine, and Mayli still enchanted him.  Her once platinum blonde hair now more silver than shimmering gold, she kept it long, falling about her playful grin, her violet eyes complementing her aging face, captivating everyone that met them.

            Mayli opened her mouth to speak again as she sat on the bed next to him, but Zella’s voice rang through the house, shouting, making both her parents cringe at the loud sound so early in the morning.

            “Dad!” she called from the living room.  “We training this morning?  It’s getting late!”

            Late?  Obi-Wan remembered when he used to get up before the first sun to do his mediation and lightsaber exercises.  He’d let a few things slide as he aged, at one point several years ago wondering about the purpose of such ventures.  Of course Zella Rey proved very powerful in the Force, needing guidance, and he enjoyed training her.  Running his hand through his thinning white-grey hair before reaching for his caf, he glanced at Mayli.

            “I remember we had something we needed to do…”

            “Vaporators.  One to install, one to replace, one to repair,” Mayli said, leaning against him.  “Need to make sure things are up and running well if we’re going to try to sell.”

            Obi-Wan nodded, now remembering.  Morning would be a good time to take care of this.

            “We’ll train after first sunset today,” he called back to his daughter.

            “’Kay,” she answered.  “I’m going to do a bit on my own this morning.”  He heard her leave the home.

            Shifting to get more comfortable, he sighed, then suddenly sat up, almost spilling his caf.

            “Nineteen years,” he said.

            “Hmmm?” asked Mayli.

            “Today.  Nineteen years today.  Since Mustafar.”  Saying the name of the place often left a bitter, acidic taste in his mouth.

            “Yes, such a long time ago,” Mayli said casually, although he sensed a bit of tension at the edge of her comment.  She always did her best to keep him from the darkness, saved him from the Dark Side more than once during their time together.

            “I see him more and more on the holonews when in town.  Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, barely above a whisper.

            “He is no longer Anakin, sweetheart.  He is Darth Vader.  Anakin died on Mustafar,” Mayli said softly, caressing the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, calming him.  “I met him, remember?  That day on Endor.  He is not the man you speak of with such love.  That man is gone.”

            Obi-Wan nodded, knowing he needed to believe this.  Still, the image of Anakin, broken and burning, came back to him, vivid, harsh.

            He moved from the bed suddenly, needing to get going so not to fall into the memory. 

            “I’ll eat and then we can get started,” he told Mayli.

            “I’m running down to the ship.  Left my tool box in the cave,” she said, kissing him gently on the lips and heading out, leaving Obi-Wan alone in their home. 

            Grabbing a piece of fruit, a rather expensive indulgence on Tatooine these days with the ever-increasing Imperial taxes, he looked out the window to the meditation garden Mayli constructed for him so long ago.

            Zella Rey Kenobi stood frozen in a meditation pose, eyes closed, balanced on one leg.  Every rock and pebble surrounding her hovered in the air.  Unmoving except for her long reddish-blonde hair moving gently in the morning breeze, she controlled herself and her environment effortlessly, Obi-Wan feeling a deep sense of pride in his daughter.  Despite the challenges of training a Jedi outside of the Temple, without the proper resources, without the guidance of Master Yoda, Obi-Wan taught Zella the ways of the Force, and she blossomed into a talented young woman.

            Obi-Wan smiled broadly at a memory of several years ago, the day he began Zella’s Jedi training.

_Eleven Years Ago_

            Mayli raised an eyebrow at Obi-Wan.  “Are you sure you can do this, Ben?”

            Obi-Wan chuckled.  “Of course, my dear.  If Zella were in the Jedi Temple, she would have begun training years ago.”

            “So four years old is ancient,” Mayli laughed, pulling her greasy work tunic over her head.  She planned to spend the day in their garage cave below their home, working on her ship, the Nebula Flame.

            Obi-Wan shrugged.  “Well…yes.  Anakin was much older.  That’s why the Counsel had such reservations.”

            Mayli opened her mouth to speak, then shut it, biting her lip.

            Obi-Wan just laughed.  “You don’t need to say anything.  I know.”

            “Well, I just think you might have some…problems.  You and Zella.  Isn’t discipline important?” Mayli asked, now putting on her boots.

            They both paused, hearing Zella singing to herself in the next room, then talking, playing with her toys in her imaginary world.

            “Zella is smart and works hard.  Remember, she completed her chores with such diligence this week and…”

            Mayli gave him a gentle smile as she walked toward the door.  “I’m not worried about her.”

            “What?”

            “Well…sweetie, let’s be honest.  Zella is a bit of a daddy’s girl.  I should know.  I’m a daddy’s girl,” Mayli said, walking up to him and putting her palm gently against his red/grey beard.  “Face it, she has you wrapped around her little finger.”

            “Now Mayli,” Obi-Wan said, feeling a bit irritated.  He certainly did not always give into Zella.  Sure, he would read her three extra stories before bed if she asked.  And yes, he’d bought her the polka dot ribbon she wanted when they’d been in town the previous week. And the stuffed plush bantha. True, he did do the voices of her favorite toys when they played tapcaf, and she made him act out the desert dowager, wearing one of flowered table clothes as a dress.  Oh dear, maybe Mayli was right.

            But Obi-Wan enjoyed being a father immensely.  The role suited him well.  Not long after Zella’s first birthday, he quit bartending at Jabba the Hutt’s cantina.  An increasing Imperial presence put him in danger of discovery, and he took to taking care of their homestead and Zella full time, occasionally working as a day laborer at nearby ranches when Mayli was home.  The following year, having put aside enough funds, Mayli quit Jabba’s to once again run her own delivery business, moving legal goods, with an office in the nearby town of Water.  But Mayli’s days in the clandestine world of the underground stayed with her, and she occasionally did runs for the ever-growing rebellion, seeing Obi-Wan’s dear friend Bail Organa at least twice a year.

            Obi-Wan and Zella formed a special bond, and while he casually taught her about the Force, trying to hone some of the skills she exhibited already, he had yet to begin formal training.  He should not have waited this long, but he enjoyed his silly, sweet, funny daughter.  Beginning proper Jedi training meant the end of something, although Obi-Wan could not say exactly what.

            But Mayli brought him out of his thoughts, laughing good-heartedly at him.  “You and Zella are quite the team.  You’ll do fine.  Good luck.” She pulled her long hair back into a tie and headed out and down the hill.

            Obi-Wan walked to Zella’s room, standing in the door way for a moment.  Zella sat on the floor, wooden blocks, a gift from the Organas, surrounding her like a fort.

            “Zella?” said Obi-Wan.

            She turned around, her freckled face lighting up, her deep blue eyes bright.  “Yes, Daddy?”

            “Are you ready to begin your Jedi training, like we spoke about last night?”

            “Oh yes, Daddy,” Zella cried, leaping up and running to take her father’s hand. 

            He led her outside to their little desert garden, helping her up onto the bench opposite his usual seat, the one Mayli often lounged on while reading.  Zella crossed her little legs and smoothed her light blue tunic.  Ever so proper, just like her father, Obi-Wan mused.

            Sitting down and facing her, he took a deep breath before he began.

            “We’re going to start with some simple meditation techniques in which you will reach out and touch the Force.  The Living Force,” he explained slowly, Zella nodding.  “Remember, you’ve done this before, when you accidently flipped the table.”

            He saw Zella frown, obviously remembering the day her little Force tricks got out of control, and she ruined many of their dishes as well as dinner.  To calm down, he taught her some basic ways of sinking into the Force with gentle precision.

            “Just breathe, little one,” he said softly and smiled as she closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. 

            Moving into the Force himself, he planned to reach out to her Force signature, pull her along with him into the energy of the universe.  He waited.

            “Daddy?” came Zella’s voice after some time.

            Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see Zella watching him, still looking a bit distraught.

            “Yes?”

            “You said Sniff joined the Force,” Zella said, her voice small and sad.

            Obi-Wan glanced over at the empty eopie barn and enclosure.  Sniff, the oft-ill family pet, died three months before, and Zella had been devastated, deeply attached to the eopie since her birth.  Like Obi-Wan, she possessed a special knack for bonding with animals.

            “Yes.  When those we love die, they join the Force,” Obi-Wan said softly, feeling a bit of grief again over the loss of Sniff.

            “So will we get to see him when we touch the Force?” Zella asked, eagerness in her eyes.

            Obi-Wan furrowed his eyebrows, not sure how to explain this.  Oh, how he wished this were true, that if he simply touched the Force, he could see and converse with Qui-Gon Jinn, his master whose Force spirit dissipated years before.  Or chat with Mace Windu…or even Padme. 

            “It doesn’t really work like that, Zella,” Obi-Wan answered.  “I wish it did though.”

            Zella’s face fell again, and she nodded.

            “Come now, my jewel,” he said, upbeat.  “Let’s try again.  And before you know it, you’ll be sparing with me with your very own lightsaber.”

            Zella beamed at him now, and he knew she longed to have her own blade, loved watching him on those rare occasions he brought out his lightsaber, Mayli up on the hill watching for TIE patrols so he wouldn’t be seen. 

            Both father and daughter again closed their eyes, and Obi-Wan felt the Force flow through him.  And there she was!  Zella Rey, drifting beside him.  Yes, little one, now let’s…

            “Daddy?”

            Back to the tangible world, the morning heat of Tatooine, Zella staring at him, only this time smiling.

            “What now, Zella?” Obi-Wan said, trying to remain patient.

            “Remember when we were in town last week?”

            “Yes?”

            “And the poster in the general store?”

            “Poster?”

            “Yes!  Mama read it aloud to me.  The Darklighter ranch has baby eopies for sale!”

            Obi-Wan nodded, now knowing where this conversation headed.

            “Sniff’s home feels empty.  Can we get another eopie?  Please, daddy?” Zella said, her sweet little voice breaking his heart, reminding him of how she cried all day after they discovered Sniff lying still in his enclosure.

            Sighing heavily, Obi-Wan realized they could not begin Jedi training today.  Mayli proved right, once again.  His daughter had him wrapped around her little finger.  But he didn’t care.  He’d lost his best friend to the Dark Side, the only family he knew, the Jedi, destroyed, all except himself and Master Yoda.  And he couldn’t exactly sit down to a pleasant lunch with the other exiled Jedi.  He’d been forbidden to train Luke Skywalker, which he considered to be the very task he’d stranded himself on this world to do.  But in the face of this, he’d met Mayli, fell in love, built a home, been blessed by the Force with a lovely little girl.  He’d been stripped of so much, and if putting off Jedi training for the day to buy a new eopie made his little girl, and thus himself, happy, so be it.

            He leaped up, Zella crawling off her bench at the same time.  They began to make their way down the hill to see his wife, working diligently in the cave.

            “Let’s see if your mother is game for eopie shopping today,” he said happily, Zella once again grabbing his hand and gabbing on and on about names for their new pet.

            An hour later, the trio zoomed across the desert to one of the Darklighter ranches, returning by nightfall with a new Kenobi family pet.

            Now, eleven years later, Obi-Wan realized his daughter now had more discipline than he did, Obi-Wan sleeping late, Zella Rey already outside training.  Finishing his fruit, Obi-Wan moved down the small staircase from their kitchen to the tiny cellar, remembering he’d left his sand cloak down there the previous evening when he’d been working on his holocron.  He’d need the covering if they were to be working in the sun on the vaporators.

            Obi-Wan paused, regarding the holocron, the cube he’d constructed and been recording on for months now.  Basic Jedi training, with some of the techniques he used at the Temple as well as the more haphazard way he had to train Zella without the help of other Jedi. 

The holocron to be used by Luke Skywalker, if the time ever came. 

Would that time ever come?  Years passed, the Empire more hostile, the Rebellion stretched, Obi-Wan forever in wait on Tatooine.  But things changed in the nineteen years since Mustafar, the nineteen years he’d stayed here on Tatooine.  He’d watched Luke Skywalker from afar, protected the boy…no, man…from the eyes of the Empire.  But for what? 

In his years of waiting, Kenobi made a life for himself, and in the light of recent events….or rather events accumulating over the years of Zella’s education…the time seemed to come to move on, to leave Tatooine.  To focus one hundred percent on his life, his family.  Plans were now in the works, arrangements actually being made.  And while he still felt some hesitance about departing, knowing his original task to be solely Luke Skywalker, he felt with great certainty in the Force that his remaining days on Tatooine were few.

Moving his eyes from the holocron, he donned his cloak and moved back upstairs to join Mayli and Zella outside.

 

**_Author’s Note: Welcome to my new story, the finale of my Obi-Wan exile trilogy.  This story will bring us up to the very moment Obi-Wan enters_ ** **A New Hope _.  Expect special family moments, romance, adventure, humor, and angst as well as appearances by many canon characters important in Obi-Wan’s life._**

**_If you haven’t read the other two stories in my_ ** **Tatooine Trilogy _, please take a look, as well as my other tale_ Drudgery at Imperial Human Resources: A Sith’s Story _, which connects to Obi-Wan’s final destiny as well._**

**_Comments always appreciated and encouraged.  Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the story._ **


	2. Leia and Zella

**Chapter Two**

**Leia and Zella**

Obi-Wan, Mayli, and Zella worked the morning away on the homestead’s vaporators.  Talking about their plans to leave Tatooine and singing songs together to pass the time, Obi-Wan found their work pace decreased as the day’s temperature increased.  Right at midmorning, the usual TIE patrols flew over, and Zella stuck her tongue out at them as they passed.

            “Chiss space will be a nice break from those stupid TIEs,” Zella said, concentrating on re-wiring a device. 

            Obi-Wan glanced at Mayli to see her look longingly after the TIEs.  “Yes, but honestly, as a pilot, I would love to fly one of those.” She sighed.  “The most recent design boasts the highest speeds of any ship of its kind.”

            “Grandpa would have been impressed,” said Zella.  “Even with his grumbling about the Empire.”

            Obi-Wan chuckled, remembering Mayli’s father, who passed away the year before of a sudden stroke.  Initially, the man did not like Obi-Wan, but after learning the truth about the father of his grandchild, he and his wife’s visits to Tatooine were pleasant affairs.  Obi-Wan felt a sudden sadness knowing he’d never see the man again, remembering both Mayli and Zella’s grief when they’d arrived back from the memorial on Corellia, which he, forever stuck on Tatooine, missed.

            Stuck on Tatooine…not for much longer.  They would be heading to Chiss space in a few short weeks, Zella set to attend university, Mayli and Obi-Wan to relax and enjoy their golden years, getting work here and there.  The location, a small terrestrial moon orbiting a gas giant in a system neighboring Csilla, consisted of a large university, the rest of the planet research laboratories, artist conservatories, and libraries supporting the institution.  Perfect for Zella, not only gifted in the Force, but quite intelligent, particularly in the arts. 

            Having watched over Luke Skywalker for nineteen years, in which time he’d been forbidden to train the boy, Obi-Wan began to feel more and more his time on Tatooine to be wasted.  Why not move with his family elsewhere, far away from the Empire?  Nothing would ever happen with the Skywalker boy, destined to farm the land like his uncle.  And Luke seemed relatively safe.  If the Empire, and particularly Darth Vader, hadn’t figured out the Skywalker living on Tatooine with Anakin’s relatives to be someone of significance by now, then he seemed to be truly safe.  Obi-Wan shook his head, almost laughing aloud at the thought.  He hadn’t bothered to change his own surname, nor Luke’s.

            Mayli began to sing a familiar tune, a Max Rebo song, and Obi-Wan joined in, their voices becoming louder as the song met its crescendo.  When done, Mayli smiled at him beneath the hood of her cloak. 

            “Remember the Max Rebo concert?” she asked, winking at him.

            “Oh yes,” he said, smiling slyly back at her.  “And didn’t we first meet over a moisture device?”

            “You were trying to steal it!” Mayli said in mock accusation.

            Obi-Wan put down his tools and walked over to her, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her to him in an embrace. 

            “You know very well I was…”

            “Oh would you two just stop.  I’ve heard that story a million times,” Zella said, giving them a spectacular eye roll typical of teenage humans across the galaxy.  “And Max Rebo is a has-been.  He plays full time over at Jabba’s now.”

            Obi-Wan shared a knowing smile and a long kiss with Mayli before returning to his work.

            “I can tell you it will be nice to head out in the Nebula Flame with you two,” he said.  He hadn’t been off the planet since his kidnapping at the hands of the Sith Scholars.  The last world other than Tatooine he’d set foot on had been the Forest Moon of Endor, nearly two decades ago.

            Mayli began to laugh, stopping her work, almost doubled-over.

            “What is it, darling?” asked Obi-Wan.

            “I was just remembering the first time I took Zella off-world,” she said, finally catching her breath.  “You little troublemaker.”

            Zella grinned broadly.  “Hey, it was all dad’s fault for training me.”

            Obi-Wan listened as his two women reminisced, wishing he could have been there to see the look on Bail Organa’s face.

_Seven Years Ago_

            Mayli laughed good-naturedly at her eight-year-old daughter, who yelped as she gripped the armrests of the co-pilot’s chair tightly.

            “Welcome to hyperspace, sweetheart,” she said, watching Zella’s eyes grow wider as she took in the swirling landscape outside the viewport, seeming to adjust to the sensation of going in between time and space.

            The duo headed toward a week-long visit with Zella’s grandparents on Corellia, with a stopover on Alderaan to attend a gathering of some of the leaders of the ever growing Rebellion, which Mayli had a hand in first bringing together.  She hesitated in bringing Zella away from Tatooine until she was old enough to understand not to mention Obi-Wan or the Jedi.  While she felt heartbroken having to tell her daughter to claim her father to be dead, Zella understood, learning more and more through her training and time with her father the tragic history of the Jedi Order.

            “When we land on Alderaan, we need to change into something nice before going to the palace,” Mayli said, putting in the next set of hyperspace coordinates.

            “Can I wear the pink outfit Grandma Rey got me?” Zella asked happily.

            “Oh yes, that would be perfect,” Mayli said.  “What should I wear?”

            “I like when you wear green.  Daddy does too,” Zella said.  “Do you think Grandma Rey will have more clothes for me?”

            “I’m sure she will,” said Mayli, sighing and shaking her head.  Rey, Mayli’s mother, recently retired from working for decades at a cosmetics firm, enjoyed all things feminine.  And while Mayli loved her work coveralls best, Zella enjoyed dressing up, having nice clothing, putting ribbons in her hair.  Mayli often wondered if fashion-awareness skipped a generation and wished she knew Obi-Wan parents.

            Hours later, Mayli walked with her daughter from the Alderaan royal landing strip to the side entrance of the palace.  Zella stared in awe, her mouth slightly opened, as they made their way along the building.

            “I thought it would be like Jabba’s Palace,” Zella said.  “This is…wow!” 

            Just approaching the entrance, Senator Bail Organa’s offices, several teenagers came out, dressed in flight suits, laughing and following an older man.  Pilots in training, Mayli mused, and she smiled at them.

            One boy stopped cold as she passed.

            “The Bird,” he said, grabbing her by the arm.  “Mayli?”

            Mayli’s eyes lit up in recognition.  “Ewok Brother!” she cried, embracing the young man.  “You are joining one of the squadrons?”

            “Yeah…I’m…”

            “Sky!  Now!” cried the man as the group disappeared around the corner.

            Sky looked down at Zella.  “Is this…this is the baby?”

            Mayli laughed.  “This is Zella.” She looked to see the man in charge of the teens now coming back, looking angry.  “You better go.  Tell your father hello for me.”

            Sky nodded and gave her another quick embrace before running in the direction of the group.

            Mayli grinned broadly as her and Zella entered the office, but the smile soon slipped from her face.  Trying not to groan, she waited as the golden protocol droid C3PO approached. 

            “Welcome Mayli,” he said in his ever-so-proper voice.  “You are the last to arrive.  The rest have assembled.”

            “Oh…I didn’t realize I was late,” Mayli said, turning to Zella.  “Baby, why don’t you sit here in the office and…”

            “Oh no!  Senator Organa instructed me to take all children of those attending to the nursery,” C3PO said as a blue, silver, and white astromech rolled in.  “I will guide the young mistress to the nursery, and you can follow R2D2 here to the meeting.”

            Mayli looked into Zella’s face, seeing worry in her daughter’s eyes.  She hugged the girl.

            “Don’t worry,” Mayli said.  “I will see you right after the meeting.  The people here are very nice.”

            “Yes.  And you will get to spend the afternoon with the princess,” C3PO said, taking Zella’s hand.

            “A princess?” gasped Zella, who turned to Mayli.  “Like in the stories?”

            Mayli just laughed at her daughter’s delight, watching C3PO lead the girl away before following R2D2 down another long corridor.

            Zella half listened to C3PO’s talk about the construction of the palace, too excited to meet a real, live princess.  She’d only been on Tatooine, which boasted royalty of the mafia kind.  But several of the stories her parents read to her featured royalty, and her father, in his days as a Jedi Knight, had even been friends with a queen.

            She imagined Princess Leia, as C3PO now mentioned as they approached the door to the nursery, beautiful, dressed in a shimmering gown, her hair curled and decked out in jewels.  Zella looked down at her own simple outfit, worried she’d be underdressed. 

            But she had no time to consider anything else, as C3PO opened the intricately carved wooden door to the nursery.  Zella gasped softly at the room as they entered.  Art covered the walls of the high-ceilinged room, which appeared bigger than the entire Kenobi house back on the edge of the Jundland Wastes.  A large holoscreen in the corner had several entertainment devices plugged in and shelves upon shelves of datapads, toys, and games leaned against the walls.  Comfortable furniture abounded, and in the center of the room, at a large wooden table, sat two girls older than Zella, perhaps twelve, she guessed.  They looked up as the door opened.

            “Princess Leia, Mistress Winter, may I present to you Mistress Zella.  Her mother is attending Senator Organa’s meeting, and she will be spending the afternoon with you,” announced C3PO.  “Is there anything you require at this time?”

            “No, thank you Threepio,” the Princess said.

            “Perhaps I could continue your history lesson today.  We left off…” said the droid.

            “No, thank you Threepio,” Leia said firmly.  “You should return to the office.  Winter and I have things to discuss.”

            “Well, I…humf,” C3PO mumbled, then turned and left, closing the door behind him.

            Both Leia and Winter turned back to each other, continuing to talk in low voices, completely disregarding Zella.  Not knowing what to do, Zella stood fidgeting with the bottom of her shirt, studying the girls.  Both dressed in simple tunic and pants, like Zella, but Leia had her long brunette hair wrapped up in an elaborate braid, Zella wanting to know how to accomplish this, perhaps for herself sometime when they went into Anchorhead for a restaurant dinner, a rare treat for the Kenobis.  Winter looked similar to Leia in all things except hair color; her silver hair stood out in the lush deep colors of the room.

            Beginning to feel more and more awkward, Zella finally moved swiftly, sitting at the table with the two girls, catching them in mid-conversation.

            “Father should be letting me attend these meetings,” said Leia.  “He underestimates me.  Everyone does.  I’m going to be a leader in the Rebellion someday, Winter.  You’ll see.”

            Winter smiled at the princess.  “Your father knows this.  That’s why he’s been educating you so well.  Having you train with the blaster, different fighting techniques.  Just maybe he…”

            “He’s just being unreasonable,” interrupted Leia, slouching back, sighing in exasperation as she folded her arms.  Then her dark, intelligent eyes lit up.  “Let’s sneak in.  I know what conference room they’re using.  I saw them moving the tables and chairs earlier.  It’s near the kitchens.”

            Winter’s eyes widened.  “But Leia, we’ll get caught.”

            “Chef loves us.  He won’t tell.  Remember, he always gives us extra sweets if we sing him the Alderaanian anthem,” Leia said.

            Winter giggled.  “He’s so sentimental.  Yes, let’s go!”

            “Me too!” cried Zella, wanting to go on the adventure with the girls.

            Leia and Winter froze and turned to look at Zella as if just noticing her for the first time.

            “You’re too young,” said Leia.

            “I am not!” Zella protested.  She felt angry to be casted aside.  “I can do a lot of things you can’t do!”

            Leia and Winter both raised their eyebrows, looking amused, which angered Zella more.

            “What can you do?” Leia asked in an almost teasing voice.

            I can move items without touching them.  I can climb quickly and drop from high places without getting hurt.  I can anticipate things moments before they happen.  I can use the Force to sense others.  I can sense a secret passageway hidden behind that moss painting above that high shelf, a secret tunnel you don’t know about, Princess.

            But she said none of these things, knowing she could not reveal herself as a Jedi.  Instead, she scowled and fixed her gaze on the table. 

            Winter came up and squeezed Zella’s shoulder.  “You seem very sweet, Zella.”

            “Yes, we can play some games together when we come back,” said Leia hurriedly.  “Come on, Winter.”

            And with that, Zella found herself alone in the nursery.

            Zella sat for several moments, using the meditation techniques her father taught her to calm down, not let her anger get the best of her.  Finally, taking a deep breath, she smiled, looking up at the moss painting, feeling again the opening behind it, the tunnel leading into the hidden network of the palace, the servants passages as well as areas set aside for emergencies, for spying.  She knew from several stories a lot of castles had these.  She giggled, thinking about the princess spending so much time in this room and not knowing about the passage.

            Nodding to herself, she made the decision to spy on the meeting as well.  She could feel her mother’s Force signature at a distance.  She would follow the passage to her, and thus the secret Rebel meeting.

            Moving quickly, she scaled the shelves, slid the painting aside, and ducked into the dark passageway.  She did this with ease, her father having taken her to several of the caves on Tatooine to practice climbing, jumping, and sensing the air, the molecules, the gravitational pull, through the Force.

            Closing her eyes and reaching out to her mother, Zella latched on to the familiar Force signature, one she’d known since before birth.  Then she moved, quickly, sure-footed, along the narrow passageway, knowing exactly which way to go when she came to a fork in her path.  On her journey, she occasionally stopped to glimpse through cracks in the walls, seeing different parts of the palace.  Finally, she arrived to her destination, having to climb a small staircase to reach what looked like a vent cover.  She guessed from the other side this looked like part of the heating and cooling system.  Hearing voices within, she used the Force to enhance her audio sensitivity.  Yes, the light, pleasant, melodic voice of her mother.

            Zella peeked through the vent to see that like the entry to the tunnel in the nursery, she was up high.  Moving aside the vent, she slowly moved out, seeing her mother at a distance below, this room having an even higher ceiling than the last.  She looked up to see stunning pictures of Alderaanian landscapes painted above, and froze for a moment, taking in the beauty.  She then looked down to see the top of another cabinet directly below her, probably not wide enough for someone like her father to perch on unnoticed, but definitely wide enough for an eight-year-old girl with the Force on her side. The shelf stood about three meters down.  An easy jump, but could she be silent?

            Making the leap, Zella landed softly, still high above the meeting, but rather exposed.  She wished she hadn’t wore her pink outfit, as the walls were a deep shade of hunter green.  Still, the members of the meeting seemed very engaged and didn’t notice her.

            Five sentients sat at the table, three humans, her mother, another older woman, pale with short hair, and an older man with dark features, a Twi’lek male, and a Mon Calamari male dressed in captain’s garb.  Her mother spoke to the group as she studied a holospec of a ship, the rest taking notes on their datapads.  Zella felt her heart swell with pride at her mother, the brave pilot, the rebel, someone who stood up against injustice.

            The holospec disappeared and the man spoke, the others gathering their things together.  This seemed like the end of the meeting.

            Suddenly, a loud clatter from the other side of the room sounded, and C3PO entered, dragging Leia and Winter with him in his tight droid grip.

            “Senator Organa, I am sorry to interrupt, but I just discovered these two listening at the door leading to the kitchens,” C3PO said.

            Zella put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing at Leia’s angry face.  Her mother, the short-haired woman, the Twi’lek, and the Mon Calamari smiled good-naturedly at the girls as they moved toward the door.

            “Leia, Winter.  Go to the nursery now.  I will be up to speak with you soon,” the man said angrily.

            “But dad!  I can help!  I can!  I have ideas…plans! I…” at that moment, Leia’s gaze rose and locked on Zella.  “Hey, how come she gets to be here!?”  She pointed angrily up at Zella, who now froze in fear.

            “Zella!” cried Mayli.

            The man stared at Zella, his mouth open, eyes wide.  Then a smile slowly stretched across his face.

            “Out, Leia,” he said.

            “But…” Leia began, but the pale woman put her arm on Leia’s shoulder and led her from the room, whispering something in her ear. 

            Now only her mother and the man remained, walking slowly to the large cabinet Zella sat upon.

            “Zella, sweetie, how in the world did you get up there?  Come down now,” her mother said.

            Looking down, Zella found she could easily jump to the marble floor without getting hurt.  But then the man would know she could use the Force.

            “You can jump down, Zella,” came the man’s voice.  “I know you are a Jedi.”

            Zella gasped, her body tightening up in fright.  She looked to her mother in desperation, but found her smiling lovingly up at her daughter.

            “Baby, it’s okay.  Senator Organa is daddy’s friend.  They knew each other before the Empire,” her mother said.  “Come down, please.”

            Zella leaped down, landing expertly in front of the senator and her mother.  Straightening her clothing, which got a little dusty from being on the top of the cabinet, she stood up as the man approached her.

            Senator Organa stopped a couple of feet before Zella, regarding her with kind, sad eyes. 

            “Zella Rey Kenobi,” he said softly, his voice deep and pleasant.  She saw tears suddenly in his eyes.  He reached out and took her hands in both of his.  “Obi-Wan’s daughter.  It is an honor to meet you.”

            “An honor to meet you too,” she said, her voice sounding small in the large space.

            “Senator Organa is the only one who knows about daddy and Master Yoda,” her mother explained. 

            Zella nodded.  “I’m sorry I spied.  But the princess would not let me come with them.  And I found the secret passage in the nursery.”

            The Senator let go of her hands and laughed jovially, tears now falling down his cheeks.  He had a pleasant laugh, and Zella realized he was quite handsome, for an older man.

            “Of course you found the secret corridors, Zella,” he said, putting his arm on her shoulder, her mother on the other side of her as they walked toward the exit.  “You’re a Kenobi.” He sighed, wiping his cheeks.  “Leia’s found some of those passages, but never the nursery entrance.  I’m assuming that’s changed now.” He looked down at Zella, his eyes suddenly sad again.  “Leia is just angry because she wants to be a part of the Rebellion.  And she will be a part of this soon enough. Give her a chance, please Zella.  She is wonderfully funny.”

            Zella joined her mother, the Senator’s family, including the princess, and the other rebels for dinner before heading to Corellia that evening.  She left with many questions for her mother, and even more for her father when they returned to Tatooine the following week.

            Obi-Wan smiled as Zella recalled meeting Bail for the first time, and he longed to see his friend, having not laid eyes on him since parting from one another, each with a Skywalker twin in his arms, nineteen years before.  Zella knew nothing of the great Skywalker secret, only knowing Luke from occasional encounters in town, seeing Darth Vader on the holoscreen as an empty, vicious machine, Obi-Wan and Mayli keeping this secret from her for her own protection.

And since this first meeting, Zella and Mayli made regular stops to Alderaan, but Zella never had any more encounters with Princess Leia, who’d often been away for her lessons.  Obi-Wan now knew her to be a leader in the Rebellion, courageous, smart, and feisty, not unlike her own father in his early years as a Jedi apprentice.  

            Bail did well with his charge, but what of Luke Skywalker? 

            Obi-Wan sighed again as he continued to work on the vaporator.  He needed to focus on his family.  He’d successfully trained a new Jedi, Zella.  Perhaps Luke was meant to forever farm on Tatooine, safe and sound and away from the Empire.

            Plus, Zella exhausted all the education on Tatooine; they needed to move along.  When Obi-Wan and Mayli taught her all they could from home, she attended lessons with tutors in nearby Water, purchased several years ago from a wealthy land baron and renamed Tosche Station.  Mayli and Obi-Wan’s good friend from Jabba’s cantina, Solla, taught Zella to love art before she joined the Force, and now Zella knew mechanics, math, and science from her mother, the ways of the Force from her father, literature and history from tutors, and art from Solla and her own exploration.  She currently dabbled in sculpture.  No, staying on Tatooine would stifle Zella.  The Kenobis needed to move on.

            “Whew, I think we’re done,” Obi-Wan said, sitting back to regard their work.  “Good job, girls.” 

            Zella leaped up, running into the house.  “I’ll fix lunch and then we need to spar, dad.” She disappeared as Obi-Wan turned to Mayli.

            “I think I’ve created a monster,” he laughed, rubbing his lower back, which ached from crouching for so long.  Yes, the pains of growing older.  While he gave up on his hair long ago, he couldn’t just give in to the aches of aging when he had a Jedi to train.

            “Let me rub your back before you take on Zella,” Mayli said, putting her arm around him.  “She’s getting good, and I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt.”

            “Me too,” Obi-Wan admitted, laughing.

            The couple entered the house after their daughter.

            Light years away, on Coruscant, in the laboratories of Emperor Palpatine far beneath the Imperial Palace, Sith Scholar Jac sat staring at the blank wall, his heart stone, his body frozen in deep grief and anger.    He’d let the rage grow in him over the past three days since the horrifying incident, and now clarity dawned on him suddenly.  He knew what he needed to do.  He needed to go to Tatooine.  He needed to go to Obi-Wan Kenobi.  Now.

            Alone in the expansive Dark Side laboratories, he turned on his holoscreen and went to work downloading his work, years of research, onto data chips.  He then moved over to the research and development files of other departments, all of which he had access to as Darth Sidious’ leading scientist in all things Force-related.  Weapons, new ships, he download all the specifications. Finally, he accessed the files for the Death Star, the Empire’s pride and joy, and filled another data chip with those plans.  Sidious would not think anything of this, as Jac insisted on backing up work all the time, speaking from experience, seeing his original home destroyed.  Three safe houses of Jac’s research findings existed throughout the galaxy, all deep underground bunkers guarded by frightening Dark Side traps. 

            Placing the data chips into the pockets of his robes, Jac calmly worked his way toward the turbolift to rise to the surface and head home.  The visions of the past two decades fell together like a puzzle in his mind, revealing the final answer.  The Death Star.  Obi-Wan Kenobi fighting Darth Vader.  Kenobi disappearing.  The holocron Jac kept in his apartment.  The vision of himself, Kenobi, and that very same holocron.  Sam and Kenobi’s daughter.  Everything…everything suddenly made so much sense, now that his heart…no, his soul…had been shattered by Darth Sidious. 

            Ah, but he would have his revenge.  Yes, he would.  And Obi-Wan Kenobi was the key.  

 

 

****


	3. Lightsaber

**Chapter Three**

**Lightsaber**

            Late afternoon brought a peaceful still over the Tatooine landscape, and Mayli sighed in contentment, watching the colors of the sky change as the first sun dipped toward the horizon.  Satisfied with their work for the day, all the vaporators running well, she shifted around comfortably on the lounge chair in the little hilltop hide she and Obi-Wan built years ago.  She would play lookout for her two Jedi as they brought out their lightsabers for their afternoon duel, but she also loved this time because she could be alone with her thoughts.

            Bringing out her data pad she updated last time they were in town, she called up an article about the moon they would be moving to in a few short weeks.  She and Obi-Wan selected a part of the world to call home, and she made long-distance queries as to housing.  Everything seemed to be moving as planned, Zella already admitted to the university.

            Unfortunately, Mayli felt, the more the days passed, the closer their departure date came, something would happen to change everything.  Perhaps all their plans seemed to be going too well, unusual for the Kenobis.  Or maybe the Force spoke to her.  She often wondered if a bit of Ben’s Force sensitivity wore off on her.  Could that be possible?

            Nevertheless, she’d slowly been shortening her client list, passing off valuable delivery contracts to other entrepreneur pilots on Tatooine.  They’d prepared the homestead for sale, even sold off the last of their eopies, which, at one point, they owned five.  She’d also disconnected herself from the Rebellion, having not been in contact with anyone in over eight standard months, when they began to talk of leaving Tatooine.

            And they would be leaving, she knew.  But she also knew the leaving would not be as planned.  But somehow she accepted this, knowing that when she decided to remain on Tatooine with Ben all those years ago, things would never go as planned, never be easy.  A sense of danger, and of destiny, always hung around them.  This became even more evident when she first volunteered for the Rebellion, then again when she’d given birth to Zella, a Jedi in the making.    

            Mayli heard the snap-hiss of the lightsabers below, and she looked down, smiling, watching father and daughter duel.  Still focused and skilled, Obi-Wan gave instructions to his daughter as they went back and forth slowly, instructions she did not really need.

            He’s still so handsome, Mayli mused, watching Ben lovingly.  Still sporting a beard, he’d given up on his hair a while ago, leaving it to thin and grey.  Mayli knew it to be one of his few vanities, but thinking about her own silver locks and the harshness of the Tatooine climate, one needed to let some things go.  They’d both shrugged things off over the years, laughing together, always by each other’s sides.  And while the occasional argument ensued, they still enjoyed trips to the steakhouse without Zella, dancing together at the cantina, romps in the bedroom which ended in satisfaction, laughter, and long talks, Mayli draped over Obi-Wan’s bare chest, his fingers twirling through her hair as they reminisced and planned.

            The duo stopped their duel, and Mayli could see Zella showing her father a new move she’d worked on alone.  Mayli allowed herself to fall into the memory of when Zella first began learning to fight.

_Five Years Ago_

            Mayli sat straight up in bed, startled awake by Obi-Wan’s yelling.  Looking down at him, he tossed and turned crying out in his sleep.

            “Anakin!  No!”

            Shaking him awake, Mayli felt deeply concerned.  He hadn’t had dreams of Anakin in years, but the past month, he’d revisited Mustafar at least a dozen times.

            “Ben…Ben…” she cooed softly as he awoke, clinging to her in the dark, this time sobbing into her neck.

            “I left him burning!” he wept.  “I should have gone back.  Why?  Mayli…I just left him.  In pain.  Alive…and now the galaxy…I had the high ground…he shouldn’t have done…”

            “Hush,” Mayli said, holding him tightly.  “You’re safe here, with me.  With Zella.  In our home.  You did the right thing, Ben.  Sweetheart, sleep.  Sleep peaceful.”

            He eventually fell back asleep, but Mayli remained up for a while, staring at the ceiling, wondering how to help Obi-Wan.  She knew she’d been the one to bring him back from the edge before, but she had no idea where the problem came from now.

            The answer came the next day.  As Mayli walked up the cliff side path from working on her ship, she heard the whirl of lightsabers, knowing Zella and Obi-Wan to be working in the garden.  Zella began training the year before with sticks and plastic pipes Mayli found, but the past two months, Obi-Wan brought out actual lightsabers.  He owned three, his own, Anakin’s, and the Sith Dia’s double-bladed bow staff. 

            Sitting down on her bench, she put up her feet and watched them, Obi-Wan showing his daughter how to properly defend herself with simple, slow movements.  Zella gripped the hilt of Anakin’s blade, the blue glow making her eyes bright.

            Using his own saber, Obi-Wan showed Zella these basic moves, their blades clashing with a hiss from time to time.  Patient and kind, Obi-Wan was a natural teacher, and Mayli wondered if the Jedi purge never happened if he would have eventually moved more into educating the younger generation.  Mayli shook her head sadly.  The Jedi Order perished fourteen years ago, Anakin ensuring its death by destroying the younglings.

            With the lightsaber Zella now held.

            “Stop!” Mayli said, standing up suddenly, startling the rest of her family.  The duo looked at her, puzzled.  “Um…Zella,” she stammered.  “Baby, I forgot my tool box down in the cave.  Could you run down and get it?  I turned my ankle on the way up.”

            “’K mom,” said Zella cheerfully, deactivating Anakin’s blade and setting it aside.  She disappeared with a skip down the hill.

            Mayli approached the confused Obi-Wan.  “Obi, Zella needs to stop using that lightsaber.”

            “Why?”

            “Those dreams.  Of Anakin.  Of Mustafar.  You’ve been fighting the lightsaber again during the day, dreaming of the tragedy at night.”

            Obi-Wan’s eyes opened wide, and he looked down at Anakin’s lightsaber hilt.  “Oh dear…I think you are right.”  He looked off, worried.  “What can we do?”

            “Can she create her own?  Don’t Jedi do that about her age?”

            Obi-Wan sighed heavily.  “Yes, but there was always a ritual, like a coming-of-age.  A group of Jedi would take the learners to one of the sacred worlds to retrieve their crystals.  The stone had to speak to the Jedi.  Then they would assemble their blades.” 

            “Can I take Zella to one of those places?”

            Obi-Wan shook his head.  “They were all well known, had Jedi halls, small temples.  Palpatine would know. Probably destroyed them already.”

            “Any other ways to make a lightsaber?”

            “Well, a lot of crystals can be molded with the Force to serve a particular Jedi,” Obi-Wan said thoughtfully.  “I remember reading of such things, but I did my first lightsaber along with the others of my age.”

            “What about Dia’s blade?  Can Zella use that?”

            “A Sith blade…no!  Absolutely not!  Imagine how many innocent lives those crystals helped take.  How many…” he froze, again looking at Anakin’s lightsaber.  “Oh…”

            “Here mom,” Zella said, appearing suddenly, putting the tool box down on the bench.  She reached for Anakin’s lightsaber.  “Okay dad, let’s…”

            “No,” said Mayli firmly, taking the hilt away.  “Zella, you are no longer using this blade.  We need you to make your own.”

            Zella’s eyes lit up.  “Really?  Oh good!  I don’t like the feel of that one.” A worried expression took over.  “But I cannot do it like you, right dad?”

            “Yes…but we can work together to make a crystal of a different sort call to you,” Obi-Wan said.  Mayli could almost see his brain spinning, trying to find the answer.  “We can look in the caves…and I remember hearing a story about the gallstone of a krayt dragon…”

            “Ew…no…let’s search the caves!” Zella cried, grabbing her father and pulling him into the house.  “We can bring up the desert maps, go to some we’ve hiked through before.” 

            Mayli followed the two smiling, putting Anakin’s lightsaber away before taking the tool box back to the cave.

            For two months, Zella and Obi-Wan explored Tatooine, searching for a crystal she could use to construct her lightsaber.  They ventured far, Obi-Wan making sure they swung by the Lars homestead, at a distance of course, at least once every other week.  He always kept these little side trips discreet, wondering when Zella would finally notice his eye often drawn in that direction. 

            Despite their wonderings, and little adventures along the way involving Sand People, Jawas, and a stampeding nerf herd, father and daughter returned home empty-handed.  The first night back, he lie in bed with Mayli, talking of their adventure.

            “Well, what are we going to do now?” Mayli asked.

            “I remember a Jedi Knight several years older than me whose master died tragically young.  Of disease.  In honor of his master, the Jedi used the crystal of the deceased man’s blade to make himself a new lightsaber.  The color even changed.”

            “How lovely,” came Mayli’s soft voice in the dark.  “Should she take Anakin’s?  Could she make that crystal her own?”

            “That just seems…wrong.  I originally planned to give that blade to Luke, but…perhaps that is the right path.”

            The next day, Obi-Wan brought out the small chest containing the lightsabers, opening it as he explained his theory to Zella.  She surprised him.

            “I think…yes…that’ll work,” she said, her voice soft, her eyes focused as if in a trance.  She picked up the Sith blade.

            “Zella…wait!”

            But his daughter already smashed the hilt onto the floor, the two crystals tumbling out.  She picked up the metal remains, tossing them in the trash, then retrieved the two red crystals, disappearing into her room and shutting the door.

            Obi-Wan made a move for her bedroom, but Mayli grabbed his arm.

            “You said the crystals can change for the Jedi,” Mayli said.

            “Yes, but…”

            “Trust the Force,” Mayli said, giving him a wink.  “Trust your daughter.”

            The next week proved agonizing for Obi-Wan as he waited for Zella.  She joined him for morning meditation but afterwards would disappear into her room.  At meal times, she would come collect a plate of food, then retreat once more.  When asked if she needed help, she simply gave him her radiant smile and said, “Nope.  You’ve given me everything I need, dad.”

            Obi-Wan tried not to mope around, but the shift from daddy to dad broke his heart a bit, not to mention his daughter making her first lightsaber.

Several days after Zella began work on her lightsaber, Obi-Wan ventured down the hill to their cave to help Mayli install a new hyperdrive on the Nebula Flame.  At one point in the afternoon, Zella entered, carrying sandwiches for her parents.

“Ah, Zella, I…” Obi-Wan began, but Zella turned away, rummaging through a box of spare parts Mayli kept in the cargo bay.

“Still working, dad,” Zella said, grabbing a few things.  She ran up and kissed him on the cheek before leaving.  “But you’ll be the first to know.”

Obi-Wan looked at Mayli in what must have been an anguished expression, because she moved over and embraced him tightly. 

“You need a distraction,” Mayli said softly into his ear before nibbling the lobe.

Obi-Wan immediately felt aroused.  “What did you have in mind?”

Mayli pulled him toward her cabin, guiding him inside and locking the door.  “Strip and I’ll show you.”

Obi-Wan eagerly obeyed, sufficiently distracted, for a few hours anyway.

Finally, one evening, as Obi-Wan sat with Mayli in the garden, talking quietly and watching the stars, Zella emerged holding a lightsaber hilt, constructed with used parts of the Nebula Flame.  Her parents grew silent as she approached and stood before them.  Obi-Wan felt his chest tighten.  A Sith blade, the red crystals…no, she was too young.  He should have barged in, demanded to help.

“I’m finished,” she said.  “First I communicated with the crystals through the Force, saw their history.  You know why Sith blades are red?”

Obi-Wan didn’t.  He assumed this reflected the heart of the Sith handling the blade, although red didn’t always mean evil.  In fact, red could be quite beautiful.  He shook his head along with Mayli.

“The crystals bleed when consumed by the Dark Side,” Zella said confidently.  “But these bleed no longer.”

Holding out the hilt in front of her, the twin blades snapped to life, and Obi-Wan gasped.  Most Jedi lightsabers hovered in the spectrum of blue or green, with a few exceptions.  But Zella’s blade looked like nothing Obi-Wan ever saw before.  One side of her bow staff glowed golden, the other a rich orange.  Obi-Wan stared, speechless.  Mayli spoke first.

“Zella,” she said, Obi-Wan hearing awe in her voice.  “They…those are the suns of Tatooine.”

“I know!” Zella said excitedly.  “The crystals felt such hatred…and so I poured all I loved into them.  You two, our eopies, Solla, grandma and grandpa, the Nebula Flame, and here…home…Tatooine.  And they became the suns.”

Obi-Wan still could not speak, but he felt tears well in his eyes.  If only his Jedi brothers and sisters could see this miraculous lightsaber, made of resurrected Sith crystals.  If only Master Yoda…but if they were all together, Zella would not even be here, nor Mayli by his side. 

But seeing Zella standing that night, her lightsaber igniting the garden with shimmering gold, Obi-Wan felt his heart surge with hope.  The Jedi would not perish from the memory of the galaxy; he beheld a new beginning right in front of him.

Now, five years later, he watched his fifteen-year-old daughter show him a new technique, something he’d never seen before, and he again felt this optimism for the future, for not only the Jedi but for the galaxy as well.  Whatever happened with Luke, whether Obi-Wan ever got a chance to train the young man or not, he’d raised a fine Jedi indeed. 

            In the uptown area of Coruscant, Jac entered his luxury apartment building.  As the lift whisked Jac up to his suite, he felt a strange calmness take over.  Sure, anger coursed through his veins like poison, but his deep resolve to slowly and systematically dismantle Darth Sidious’ most beloved projects made Jac feel a deep sense of serenity.  Of course another being would be nervous about this resolve, but the fact Jac saw visions of the future, had seen himself and others enacting these plans for years, made him sure of success.  Before the events of the past week, these visions were unconnected, but within the past day, everything fell into place, revealing his final path.

            Still, he felt a deep sense of betrayal of these visions.  Why hadn’t he seen what would happen?  Why hadn’t he seen the fate of his beloved Callie?

            Entering his apartment, he found his son, Sam, sitting in his favorite lounge chair, staring sadly out at the Coruscant skyline.  He turned to look at his father, sitting up suddenly, his chiseled features resembling his mother, making the anger in Jac’s blood heat further.

            “Something is happening,” Sam said, rising, running his hand through his mop of black hair. 

            Jac nodded.  “Pack your things.  Essentials only.  We are leaving.  And we are never coming back here.”

            Sam nodded, retreating down the hall.  Jac walked over to the comm unit, standing in front so to capture his holographic message to Darth Sidious.  The Emperor, currently offworld, would not think twice of Jac leaving, as he often did to check on their other experiments around the galaxy.  In fact, Jac was due anyway to check into the facilities he planned on visiting after recruiting a certain exiled Jedi.

            The comm unit lit up, recording.

            “Hello Sheev,” Jac said, once again marveling at his calmness, at his flawless performance.  Damn, he missed his calling; he should have been a holostar.  “I didn’t get a chance to check with you yesterday before you left, but I am going to visit our viral genetic lab in the Outer Rim.  A sudden genome formula occurred to me, something that might need to be changed in the development of a bio-weapon against insectoid sentients.” This was all true, as last week, before the tragedy, he’d had a sudden epiphany while drinking caf.  “While away, I also plan to swing by the Maw Installation, pick up those newest specs on the Sun Crusher, as we discussed a few weeks ago.  The black hole cluster continues to make data transmission frustratingly impossible. But I suppose that’s why Tarkin hid everything out there, to keep from the prying eyes of the rebel scum.  And Sith lords.”  He chuckled.  “I continue to find it amusing good ol’ Wilfuff  thinks you do not know about his secret research facility.”  Jac rolled his eyes and shrugged good-naturedly, as if sharing a joke with an old friend.  Sidious always seemed to enjoy humorous interactions with the laid-back and snide Jac, possibly because the other Sith he worked with, Darth Vader, had the sense of humor of a wet rag.  “I should return in three standard weeks.  Until then, good health, my Lord.”

            Jac signed off, unplugged the comm, and tossed it into the fire his son started before he arrived home.  A loud snap and a pop came from the fireplace as the comm unit incinerated. 

            “Bastard,” Jac hissed, moving down the hall to begin packing.  He paused at Sam’s room.  “We leave in ten minutes.”

            Sam rose from the floor where he shoved his robes into his bag.  “What about mom’s things?”

            The mention of Callie made Jac flinch.  “Everything stays behind.”

            “Can we…can…” Sam stammered, obviously near tears.  Nearly sixteen, his boy always seemed strong, sure of himself, like his father, but Jac saw now he’d been deeply hurt by Callie’s death. 

            “We’ll bring her lightsaber,” Jac said.  “And a couple pieces of her jewelry.” His voice caught in his throat.  “I…the necklace I…”

            Sam rose and grabbed his father, the two men embracing in the doorway for several moments before stepping away.

            “Ten minutes,” Sam said, running his sleeve under his dripping nose.  “Where are we going?”

            “Tatooine,” said Jac.  “We’re bringing a powerful weapon out of exile.”

           

           

 


	4. Master Yoda

**Chapter Four**

**Master Yoda**

            Sitting at the helm of the luxury yacht he used to escape from the Sith Scholars years ago, Jac stared transfixed at the blaze of blue hyperspace whisking by the ship.

            “Dad?” Sam asked, filling the silence that enveloped the ship for some time.  Jac realized both he and Sam were quite numb from the past week’s events. 

            “Yes, son?” Jac responded.

            “What is Tatooine like?  Gotta be hot with two suns, right?” the boy said, Jac noticing Sam tossed the holocron from one hand to the other absentmindedly.  Such an incredible secret, such awesome power that cube contained. 

            “Ah…yes, it’s a desert world,” Jac said, remembering the uncomfortable heat of Tatooine for the short time he, Dia, and Lail stayed, in the guise of Max Rebo groupies.  He wondered how people got used to living in such a place. 

            “I can’t wait to destroy Sidious,” Sam said quietly.  “This Obi-Wan can help?”

            “Oh yes, he is a factor.  I know,” Jac said.  “I only recently put the pieces together.  But you’ll see the truth when you shake his hand.”

            “If he’ll shake my hand,” Sam chuckled.  “Didn’t you blow up his hut?”

            Jac laughed at the memory, the first legitimate laugh he’d experienced in days.  He shared a smile with his son.

            “Yes, yes…but it was an ugly hut anyway,” Jac said.  “A hovel, really.  I did him a favor.”

            He glanced at his son’s hands, now merely holding the holocron in his lap.  Jac, very strong in the Force, with the gift of foresight, and his now dead wife Callie, a former Jedi of mild talent, passed on an interesting trait to their son: Sam could read the history of people and things by merely touching them.  And while he could not control this as a young child, breaking down in confused fits and eventually needing to wear gloves most of the time, he could now control the power with ease, turning it on and off when necessary. 

While Jac and Callie experienced the secrets of the holocron together, Sam told them the history of the object, prompting Jac to eventually take his son into the interesting, and rather amusing, realm of the holocron.  Jac grinned again, remembering the properness of Obi-Wan Kenobi, wondering what he would think of the eccentric holocron gatekeeper.

“We’ll be there after one more jump,” Jac said, taking a deep breath.  While he knew his plan would succeed, had seen it in his visions, he nevertheless felt the weight of the tasks ahead, the magnitude of the momentous things to come.

That evening, on the edge of the Jundland Wastes, Obi-Wan lie next to Mayli in the dark, both tired from a busy day of work. 

“I just hope we are doing the right thing,” he said, Mayli snuggling in against him.  “I wish I could speak to Master Yoda.  Did he have some plan?”

“Oh sweetheart, I wish we could see him, but that part of space is crawling with Imperials now,” Mayli said.  “When I took Zella two years ago, we barely got out unnoticed.  And I’m afraid someone would see us heading there, drawing attention to him.” 

Obi-Wan just nodded.  He hadn’t spoken to Yoda since the year of Zella’s birth, when they’d communicated over the Rebel comms, which needed to be destroyed upon the Empire learning the code.  Mayli visited a year later to ensure Yoda of everyone’s safety, as Obi-Wan and her continued to fret over his possible panic at once again being alienated from the galaxy.  But Mayli returned from that trip disheartened, afraid she’d offended the little Jedi Master, who made her promise not to return.  Obi-Wan took an entire day to assure her that Yoda worried for her safety, did not dislike her.  Still, he wondered often about Yoda, Mayli claiming even she could feel the press of the Dark Side on Dagobah.

Mayli sighed.  “What’s to come, Ben?  Last time I spoke to anyone in the Rebellion, things seemed to be crumbling.”

“I don’t know.  I came here to watch over Luke,” he laughed softly.  “And then you came along, and Zella, and everything changed.”  He nodded again.  “I’ve done my work.  Trained a Jedi.  Now we need to get to a safe place, maybe rebuild the order.”

“Ben?”

Mayli’s hesitance, her sudden tension bleeding into the Force, alarmed him.  “Yes, darling?”

“Something is going to happen.”

“I know.”

He held onto her tighter, as if his very life depended on it.

Outside their bedroom door, Zella leaned her ear away.  She’s been passing by on her way to the living room to fetch her data pad, and the overheard mention of Master Yoda caught her attention.

Quietly returning to her room, she sat on the bed, thinking.  She long suspected her father chose Tatooine for purposes other than “it seemed like a good place to hide.”  But who was this Luke?  Zella searched her mind, realizing she knew three Lukes on Tatooine.

Ol’ Man Luke Bo worked at Jabba’s Palace, head of gaming.  He’d been friends with her parents when they both worked for Jabba, and as late a year ago, the family dined with him.  Luke, old and kind, seemed content to spend the rest of his years serving the Hutt.

Hmmm…ah, yes, there was Luke Skywalker, who lived with his aunt and uncle on the Lars homestead not too far from here.  Sandy-haired and a few years older, Zella remembered him helping out at the machine shop in Tosche Station, where Mayli often bought parts.  Zella talked to Luke for a bit, found him cute if not a little goofy.  But his enthusiasm for engineering showed, and Zella remembered the young man questioning Mayli about her ship and her adventures across the galaxy.

Oh, and also Luke Darklighter, one of the younger cousins of the large and wealthy Darklighter clan.  Zella remembered the young Luke being in the same mathematics class she took in town when she was seven.  He’d pulled her long hair, so when he went to leave after lessons that afternoon, she used the Force to trip him in front of the rest of the children, causing laughter on their part and embarrassment on his.  Of course, Zella received a lecture on appropriate use of the Force from her father that evening when she gleefully told her parents what she’d done over the dinner table.  Still, the memory made her happy, that stupid, snobby Darklighter boy.

“I came here to watch over Luke,” her father said.  Which Luke?  Were there others?  She imagined Ol’ Man Luke Bo being some sort of diplomat in hiding, but that seemed a bit of a stretch.  And the Darkligher jerk was Zella’s age, did not exist when her father arrived.  So what about Luke Skywalker?  She wished she knew his age, only that he was a couple years older.  And where were his parents?  No other Skywalkers lived around these parts.  Hmmm… 

Her thoughts came again to Master Yoda, the tiny Jedi Master, and her memory brought her back to the day she spent with him on Dagobah, a day that opened her eyes to what being a Jedi truly meant for her.

_Two Years Ago_

            Zella stood at the bottom of the ramp of the Nebula Flame, clutching her pack tightly to her chest, staring apprehensively at the landscape in front of her.  Dagobah stank of the Dark Side, Zella having not encountered that spectrum of the Force too often.  Still, she felt it dense in the air here.

            “Okay, baby,” came her mother’s soft, reassuring voice from behind her, calming Zella instantly.  “His hut is just over that ridge.  I’ll be here waiting.  I love you.”

            “Love you too,” Zella said, taking a deep breath and marching confidently toward Master Yoda’s home.  

            The confident walk soon became a slow trudge as she made her way through the muck of the swamp.  Coming over a hill, the Nebula Flame soon disappeared from sight, but Zella kept her mother’s Force signature ever on the forefront of her mind.  Scanning the area before her, she could not see anything resembling a home.

            “Ahhh…arrived the Kenobi child has,” came a small gravelly voice, and Zella spun to her left to see a little green big-eared creature perched on a rock, wearing the brown robes of a Jedi, similar to her father on most occasions.

            “Master Yoda…I am Zella Rey Kenobi,” she said, surprising herself by not stammering, although her heart leapt at seeing the ancient Jedi her father spoke of with such reverence.  “I come from Tatooine, from my father, to meet you.  I know you made my mother promise not to visit again, but I begged them to allow me to see you, introduce myself.”

            “Hmmm…and come with gifts you have.  Food, perhaps,” he said, jumping down and pawing at her pack with his tiny hands.  He stopped, his gaze falling on the lightsaber clipped to her belt.  “Training you, Obi-Wan has.  A lightsaber you built.”

            “Yes,” Zella said, setting down her pack, removing the hilt, and igniting the blades.  She watched Master Yoda’s eyes go wide.

            “A unique lightsaber, like one I’ve never seen,” he said.  “Know the Force, you do?”

            “Yes,” Zella said eagerly.

            “Tell me you will,” Yoda said, gesturing to a rock nearby.

            The two sat for the next two hours, Zella telling Yoda about her training, about Tatooine and her family’s home, about her other lessons, even about the eopies.  Master Yoda smiled warmly at her and seemed especially pleased when she brought out a picnic lunch for them.

            “And…well…I made you something,” Zella said, pulling out a small quilt she’d made, using fabric she inherited from Solla.  “I don’t know what colors you like.  Dad didn’t seem to know…so, I thought, since it’s dark here…and wet…I would bring you the sun.  Well, two suns. Mom and dad’s friend Solla made me one similar when I was born.  This one isn’t as good as hers, she was an artist…like, really amazing and I enjoy drawing and sewing and sculpting but she…” Zella stopped, realizing she was rambling quickly like some Mos Espa teen and not a dignified Jedi. 

            Yoda ran his small fingers across the quilt, bringing it up to his face.  “A special gift, Jedi Kenobi.  Thank you.”

            Zella beamed.  The wind blew, and she again felt the Dark Side, this time rustling through the breeze.  She turned in the direction of the wind.

            “What’s over there?” she asked, suddenly transfixed.

            “Ready to see I am afraid you are not,” Yoda said, his usual light and musical tone growing serious. 

            Zella rose.  “The Dark Side.  That area…this is why you hide here.”

            “Mmm hmm.”

            “I’ve only felt the Dark Side a few times, but dad knows it.  Says he felt it when he fought the Sith.  Like Dooku and Darth Vader.”

            “Darth Vader?” Yoda asked, looking at her curiously.  “Speak of Vader your father has?”

            “Yes.  Vader killed his friends…Mace and Anakin and the younglings at the Temple,” she said.

            “Hmmm,” Yoda hummed.  “Walk in that direction we will.”

            The duo moved slowly across the swamp until they came to a cave shrouded by vines.  Zella’s head began to ache with the impact of the Dark Side.

            “Happened long ago something terrible did,” Yoda said.  “Come here I do.  Speak with the Force.  Visions I see.” He studied her carefully.  “Trained you well Obi-Wan has, giving hope to the galaxy, hope to the future of the Jedi.  But know the Dark Side you do not.  Walk inside, for a moment.”

            He gestured toward the entrance.  Zella swallowed hard, her limbs feeling weak, but she walked slowly in the cave nonetheless.

            Stopping short a little ways in, she froze.  Before her stood a man clad in regal, aristocratic clothing.  Dark hair streaked with silver and almost black eyes, with a pale complexion, he smiled at her warmly.

            “Zella Kenobi?” he said, walking toward her. He took out a small cube, holding it toward her in his palm.

            “Who are you?” she asked, her voice loud, filling the cave.

            The man gave a mock pout.  “Come now, no need to be rude, young lady,” he said, pocketing the cube and bringing out a lightsaber.  With a snap-hiss, a red blade ignited the dark cave.  “Where is your father?”

            Zella reached for her own blade, but looked down and realized it no longer hung on her belt.  She looked back up desperately and gasped.  Another man stood before her, also dark-haired like the one before, but this time with light eyes.  He held a child in his arms, a baby with brown hair who turned to look at Zella, cooing and smiling. 

            “Zellie, you spoke so much of restarting the Jedi Order,” he said, looking at her with loving eyes.  “But I’m afraid we’ll just be sacrificing our little girl.  Everything, the galaxy, the New Republic, stands on shaky ground.  Why seek him out?  Aren’t we happy here?”

            “Who are you?” she repeated her former question.  She looked again at the baby.  Hers…she knew it.  But she was thirteen…this was some man she’d never met, but she knew him to be the father.  Was this the future, her future?

            A mechanical breathing sound filled the space as the man and baby disappeared. 

            “Ah…a Kenobi!  Obi-Wan preaches the Code, yet breaks it the first chance he gets,” said the voice, and Zella turned to see Darth Vader, as she’d seen him on the holoscreen only this time in full, terrifying reality.

            Zella knew the vision to be false.  This cave played tricks on the mind.  She stood up straight and tall before the Sith Lord.

            “I fear you not, Lord Vader,” she said.  “You’ve met me before, when you encountered my mother on Endor.  She felt sad for you, a broken man relying on machines.  And I find you pathetic as well.”

            Vader roared and came toward her, but Zella stood firm, and the image passed directly through her.  Zella stood alone in the cave, her heart racing.  Of all the images, the man with the child stood out most.  She’d never considered such things, been so busy with lessons and training with her father.  But a child…and what did he say?…restarting the Jedi Order.

            The full impact of that statement hit her.  She could be the beginning, her father growing older, Master Yoda ancient and obviously in declining health.  Would she be meant to return the Jedi to the galaxy?  Her child as well?

            “Yes…yes Zella Rey,” Yoda said.  “But alone you are not.  Yet, through you the Force flows strong, stronger than most others.  Important things to come.”

            “Who were those two men?” she asked.

            Master Yoda just shrugged.  “Lost touch with the galaxy I have.  Only swamp birds, fish, and muck slugs I see…and eat.”  He took her hand, placing her lightsaber hilt back in her palm.  “Waiting your mother is.  Return we shall.”

            After Yoda and her mother exchanged strained greetings, and the mother and daughter left crates of supplies with Master Yoda, Zella found herself lost in thought in the co-pilot’s seat as they flew away.

            “We’ll need to take a roundabout way home.  Too much Imperial activity,” her mother said, glancing over at Zella.

            Zella simply nodded, and her mother grew quiet, obviously sensing Zella needed time to think.  Must be odd, Zella mused, living with two Jedi.

            Now, two years after this day with Yoda, Zella sat in the dark pondering the overheard conversation of her parents.  What plans did Yoda have for him and her father?  And again, who was this Luke her father mentioned?  And her mother’s words, something is going to happen.  Zella felt it too.  Did it have anything to do with the visions in the cave?

            Zella fell onto her back and cast her data pad aside.  Using meditation techniques to clear her busy mind, she eventually fell asleep.

            The next morning, Sam stood on a hill top, watching the second sun of Tatooine work its way above the horizon.  He turned to his father, who walked amongst the old wreckage of the hut of Obi-Wan Kenobi he blew up years ago.  Nothing remained except ruins.

            “Well, I guess he found another place to live,” his father said, coming over to Sam.  He followed his son’s gaze towards the second rising sun.  “Impressive, huh?”

            Sam nodded.  He’d never seen anything like it, having spent most of his time on Coruscant.  When he left that planet, he’d mostly been with his father in the secret laboratories on the other worlds, learning about the science of the Dark Side.  His mother took responsibility for the rest of his Force training, his father hopelessly bad at combat. This had been a frequent joke between them, gentle teasing he’d watched his parents engage in over the years.

            “Perhaps there are records of a move, of land purchases.  Most likely under Mayli’s name,” his father said.  “Sammy, what’s the nearest town?”

            Sam pulled out his data pad.  “Tosche Station.  Formerly named Water.”

            “All right,” Jac said, motioning for his son.  “Let’s head there.” He walked down the hill back toward the yacht.

            Sam took a deep breath, once again looking toward the suns.  The beautiful orange vision comforted him a bit after the pain of the past week, and a sudden feeling a destiny, of importance of this moment, seemed to pour over him, beginning at the top of his head and spilling over his whole being.  He glanced toward his retreating father, who seemed to notice nothing.  Sam felt confused, as his father, very powerful in the Force, always seemed to sense everything before anyone. 

            Shrugging to himself, he made his way down the hill, wondering what they would find at Tosche Station.

 

 


	5. Tosche Station

**Chapter Five**

**Tosche Station**

            The Kenobi family sat around the breakfast table, quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts.  Obi-Wan looked at Mayli and Zella, feeling a sudden wave of love move over him, causing him to smile.  He remembered arriving on Tatooine in utter despair, came close to becoming lost several times.  Then Mayli happened, and a few years later Zella.  Sometimes his past life as a Jedi seemed to belong to someone else.

            His mind drifted to Anakin, wondering what he thought, if he ever considered the events on Mustafar nineteen years before.  Or did Anakin even exist anymore, Darth Vader taking over completely?  In the beginning, when he’d first arrived on Tatooine, Obi-Wan went through all the what ifs, but time moved on, and Obi-Wan built a new life for himself, one he didn’t regret but loved. 

            But he also felt this existence would soon end.  Like Mayli said the night before, something was going to happen.

            Looking at his two women (goodness, when had Zella grown up?), he cleared his throat. “So, what is on the agenda today?”

            Mayli sighed.  “Heading to Mos Eisley, meeting with some pilots to get rid of those final contracts.  Hope to find some reliable people for my clients, maybe try to connect with some of the younger pilots, help them build a business.”

            “The Ithorian clay I ordered for my new project should be in at the general store at Tosche Station,” said Zella, looking at her dad with her big blue eyes.  She blinked lovingly at him.  Uh, oh, she wants something.  “Can I borrow the landspeeder?  You’re just working on that holocron, right dad?”

            Obi-Wan smiled.  He and Mayli finally allowed Zella to do short adventures on her own the previous month after she convinced them that with her Jedi training, she was probably one of the most dangerous things on Tatooine.  He shared a glance with Mayli, and they made a silent decision. 

            “Yes.  Just bring your lightsaber, keep it hidden, and avoid those stormtroopers,” he said.

            Leaping up, Zella quickly kissed each of her parents on the cheek and was off without further word.

            Mayli left soon after, the Nebula Flame zooming across the desert toward Mos Eisley.  Obi-Wan rarely left the homestead anymore, the Imperial presence everywhere.  Most people, except those that knew him with Mayli years ago, would even connect him with either woman, as he was associated with no one legally.  Mayli kept her address at Tosche Station, the same building as it was when the town had been called Water years ago.

            Obi-Wan descended into their cellar, retrieving the holocron he’d been preparing for Luke.  While Mayli knew the true nature of his work, Zella only thought he created the cube to preserve the history of the Jedi. 

            Preparing to record a lesson on lightsaber creation, he wondered again at the necessity of creating the device.  If Luke were lucky, he might spend the rest of his days working on the Lars moisture farm, most likely inheriting the place, lost from the Empire, from the eyes of his father.  Nevertheless, Obi-Wan felt he needed to do something, as he never got the chance to train the boy.  Nodding to nobody in particular, he gathered the Force around himself and the cube and began his lesson.

            Zella walked happily down the dusty streets of Tosche Station, glad to be out and about after yesterday’s work on the homestead.  Leaving the landspeeder with a few others on the edge of town, she intended to stop by most of the businesses, simply to see what was going on. 

            “Zella!” came a cheerful voice from behind, and she turned to see Luke Skywalker trotting toward her, his warm smile and bright eyes, along with his messy blonde hair, lightening her mood more.

            “Hey Luke, what’s…”

            “Did you see the yacht?” he asked excitedly.

            “Yacht?”

            “Yeah.  Other side of town.  Beautiful luxury ship.  Don’t usually see those around here,” he said.  “Follow me.”

            Zella jogged alongside Luke until they came to the other side of Tosche Station.  Sure enough, a gorgeous yacht sat parked in the sand, shining under the late morning sun.  Three Jawas walked around the ship, chattering away.  Zella giggled. 

            “Whoever owns that better watch out for those scavengers,” Zella said. 

            Luke stood beside her, looking longingly at the ship.  He sighed heavily.  “I wish I could just hop in there and fly away from this place.”

            “That would be ill advised, Skywalker,” Zella said teasingly.  “Whoever owns that has money and would have your farm.  And maybe your head.  Might be a member of Black Sun.”

            But Luke didn’t seem to hear her comment. 

            “You’re lucky, you know, Zella,” he said quietly, still looking at the ship.  “You’ve been away, around the galaxy with your mom.”

            Zella laughed, trying to lighten the mood, having rarely seen Luke like this. “Not everywhere.  Mostly to see my grandparents and…”

            “But you’ve left Tatooine!” he said, now looking at her.  “I’ve never been anywhere.”

            Zella found herself studying Luke, wishing she could help him somehow.  But then she watched his face shift back into his usual cheerful self. 

            “Sorry, Zella.  Just sometimes wish I could fly away, like some of my friends.  Maybe join the Rebellion.” He shook his head.  “So, what are you in town for?”

            “Picking up clay.  You?”

            “Power convertors.  Clay, huh?  What are you making?”

            The two walked back into the heart of town before parting ways at the general store.  After that stop, Zella carried the ten pound bag of Ithorian clay, walking back toward her landspeeder, but stopped outside the tapcaf.  The board out front advertised a sweetened iced caf, and Zella, with a few credits left in her pocket, decided to treat herself.

            The tapcaf remained nearly empty, only two chatting farmwives in the corner.  Zella sat and brought out her data pad and stylus, working on a sketch of what she wanted to create with her clay, taking a sip of the delicious drink from time to time.  The door opened, bringing a gust of heat into the cooled space, and she rose her eyes to see who entered.  A young man, about her age, with dark hair, light eyes, and a handsome chiseled face.  His paler, nearly flawless skin, along with his elegant, richly colored robes, informed her he was definitely not a Tatooine native. His eyes roamed the establishment before stopping to rest on her.

            Zella almost gasped aloud.  She knew this boy!  Yet, she didn’t.  He seemed familiar, but she didn’t know from where.  No, the more she looked, the more she knew she never met him before. 

            Blushing because she realized she’d been staring, she refocused on her drawing and drink. The swish of robes told her the boy entered the tapcaf and approached the counter.  His deep, pleasant, polite voice ordered the same drink as her.

            Zella suddenly became self-conscious of her clothing, and she looked down to see she’d worn her favorite pink tunic and cream pants.  Not terrible, she thought.  And her hair didn’t appear too windswept, as she’d worn a head covering while driving the landspeeder.  Hesitantly, she dared another glance at the boy, who’d found a seat at a table across from hers.  He had his data pad out as well, reading something, but he suddenly looked up at her.

            “Hey,” he said.

            “Hey.”

            He tilted his head and furrowed his brow, as if thinking.  “Do I know you?”

            Zella laughed.  “I was actually thinking the same thing.”

            He smiled too.  “Um...mind if I join you?”

            She gestured him over, and he sat directly across from her.  Her heart rate quickened a bit. He was handsome and owned a confident air.  His eyes shifted to the bag of clay at her feet.

            “Artist?”

            “Yes.  Starting a new project, although I’m not sure of what yet.”

            He nodded.  “So…let’s figure out where we’ve met before.  Coruscant?”

            “Never been,” she admitted.  “I’m a Tatooine girl.”

            “Hmmm…spent most of my life in the capital.  First time here,” he glanced around the tapcaf.  “I stick out like a Wookie at a Chadra Fan retreat.”

            Zella laughed.  “I’m guessing you belong to the yacht outside town.”

            The boy rolled his eyes.  “Dad’s.  His pride and joy.  Honestly, it’s a monstrosity.  We’re here looking for someone.”

            “Who?  Perhaps I can help.”

            “He goes by Ben or…kriff!” the boy cursed, having spilt some of his drink down his front.  “Sure enough, sit next to a pretty girl, make a complete fool of yourself, Sam.”

            “I’ll grab some napkins,” Zella said, rising and heading to the counter, unable to keep the smile from her face.  Pretty girl?  She returned, handing him the stack.  “Here…”

            He took them, and in that moment, his hand fell over hers.  His entire face changed from embarrassment to utter astonishment.  He dropped her hand and scoot back his chair.

            “Jedi,” he whispered.

            Zella felt her insides freeze, and she gaped at the boy, this Sam.

            “Who…what…no, what do you mean Jedi?” she stammered.

            “Sam?” came a loud voice, and both Zella and the boy turned to see an elegantly dressed older man at the entrance to the tap caf.

            Zella took the opportunity to leave.  Grabbing the clay, she dashed for the door, brushing by the newcomer.  Walking quickly down the street, her heart racing, Zella felt panic rise in her chest, and she accessed the Force to calm herself.

            How did he know?  She kept her lightsaber well-hidden, the hilt strapped to her leg under her trousers.  She needed to get away.  Now.

            Throwing the clay into the backseat of the landspeeder, she jumped in and sped off into the desert toward home. 

            Sam watched in a state of befuddlement as the girl raced through the door.  His father smiled broadly after the girl, then approached Sam, taking the seat the girl just vacated.

            “Nice job, Sammy my boy,” his father said, grabbing Sam’s drink and taking a long sip.  He smacked his lips loudly as he put the cup down.  “Damn, that’s excellent.”

            Sam still looked at the door the girl ran out of with her clay.  Upon entering the tapcaf, he’d felt drawn to her and mustering all the courage he had, actually spoke to her.  He’d felt quite proud of seeming so confident, something his father always exhibited with such a casual demeanor, and then his stupid hands ruined everything.

            But then he considered the things he saw when his skin brushed over hers.  Another sensitive to the Force, taught under the Code of the Jedi.  He saw images of her training with a golden and orange lightsaber bow staff, fighting against a bearded man who often stopped to laugh with her.  He saw the girl talking animatedly with a beautiful older woman, zooming through hyperspace in the cockpit of a freighter.  Other images appeared, more vague, of creatures in a pen, nuzzling the girl, this time a lot younger.  Eopies, yes.  He saw a few in town.  Another image showed a little green, long-eared creature in a swamp.  What could this mean? 

            But the Force…yes, the Force flowed through this girl like a forest stream, clear and cleansing.  Mostly the Light. He knew the Force, his mother a former Jedi, his father a Sith scientist.  But of course the Force flowed with him differently, more like a rainbow, the spectrum continually moving from Dark to Light.

            Sam rose his eyes up at his dad, who had a smug, knowing look on his face.  “Yes, dad.  I finally talked to a pretty girl.  But you had to ruin it and…”

            “That is the daughter of the very man we are looking for!” said Jac gleefully.

            “It is?  How do you know?”

            His dad pointed to his forehead.  “Seen her in visions before.”  He rose quickly, grabbed the caf drink, and drained the cup.  “Off to the ship.  We need to follow her.”  And without another word, he moved quickly out the door, his son on his heels.

            Sam knew his father well, had worked with him in the Emperor’s lab for years, learning the strange secrets of the Force.  And while ethics didn’t seem too much of a concern to Jac or even Sam most of the time, the younger man felt a bit sick following this girl.  As they neared the yacht, he grabbed his dad by the shoulder.

            “We can’t follow her.  She’s good…kind…and…”

            “Oh my dear boy, we are not going to hurt her.  Or her father.  Or her mother.  On the contrary, they are going to help us.  I told you.  Ben Kenobi…Obi-Wan Kenobi…he’s our only hope in my ultimate revenge against Sheev,” Jac said, whose face darkened.  “That wrinkle-assed bastard who…”

            “Okay dad,” Sam said, feeling the grief over his mother’s recent death return.  Amazingly, during the time he interacted with the girl, he’d briefly forgotten, became just a teenage boy again.  Such a strange emotion, grief.  He suddenly longed to see this girl again, craving the lightness, the happiness he felt with her for those few brief moments.

            Approaching the ship, he watched as his father shooed away a group of small hooded sentients, then pause and turn toward a group of young men standing around, looking at the ship.  Sam followed his dad’s gaze to one in particular, a sandy-haired man dressed in white.

            “You know him too?” asked Sam.

            “No…but his presence feels familiar…hmmm…” Sam watched realization dawn on Jac’s face. “Ah ha!  Interesting.  Well, none of my concern.  Off to the Kenobis.”

            The duo entered the yacht, soon taking to the air, heading toward the open desert.

            Zella parked the landspeeder and leaped out, running full tilt toward the house, screaming for her father.  He emerged, confusion on his face.

            “Darling, what is…”

            Zella began talking rapidly but soon stopped, her eyes turning toward the desert, the area of Tosche Station.  A dot in the sky indicated a ship, getting bigger by the moment.  Zella glanced at the suns, for a moment hoping this to be a TIE, one of the usual patrols.  But the time was off.

            “Oh no…I led him right to us!  I…oh dad, what have I done?!” Zella cried.

            The ship took form now, moving close to the ground, and finally landing in the sand at the bottom of the hill on which the Kenobi homestead sat. 

            She felt her father tense through the Force, and he ran quickly into the house, returning with his lightsaber.

            “That is the yacht belonging to the Sith Scholars,” he said. 

            Zella watched as the ramp came down, and the man she’d seen in the tapcaf, along with the boy she flirted with, Sam, emerged.  The man looked up at the hill, shielding his eyes from the suns, then smiled and waved at both Zella and her father.  Both men moved toward the path to the Kenobi home.

            Zella looked desperately at her father, who ignited his lightsaber. 

 

 


	6. Scoundrel

**Chapter Six**

**Scoundrel**

            Mayli scrunched up her nose in disgust as she walked down the main thorough through of Mos Eisley.  This place had really become a pit, particularly in the past decade as Imperial sanctions Coreward forced mafias to build up on the far-less policed Outer Rim worlds.  And with Jabba the Hutt basically the leader of Tatooine…well, Mayli could not wait to see the last of the desert world.  Yes, she often felt sentimental; she’d fallen in love here, gave birth to and raised her daughter on Tatooine.  But visiting Mos Eisley, with a smell that can only be defined as wretchedness permeating the air, reminded her how dangerous the place had become.

            Still, she had seen something as she parked the Nebula Flame that brightened her day.  An old Corellian YT-1300 light freighter, which her father’s company produced decades ago, sat a few ships down from hers.  She paused a moment to look at the ship, a bit shabby, but well-loved, allowing bittersweet memories of her late father to take over.  She imagined him laughing jovially at the site of the older model.

            Minutes later, Mayli felt hopeful as she entered the large, busy cantina, wanting to help some poor, young pilot by giving him or her a valuable contract.

            “Mayli!” came a loud, booming voice, and Mayli turned to see a table by the entrance occupied by Wires, a former clone trooper turned delivery pilot, a good friend over her years on Tatooine. 

            Embracing the tall man, she joined him.  “Hey, how are my customers?”

            “Um… _my_ customers, you mean,” he laughed.  “Great.  Thank you so much.  Finally got completely out of Jabba’s shadow.  But you gotta tell me how to deal with that old botanist in Anchorhead.”

            “Oh, he’s been a little crazy for as long as I’ve known him,” explained Mayli, glancing around.  “What does a girl gotta do to get an ale around here?”

            Wires rolled his eyes.  “No wait staff.  Just the bar.  I’ll come too.  Need another.”

            Mayli led the way through the thick crowd.  Suddenly, a Rodian stepped back right into her, and Mayli stumbled.  But just before hitting the ground, a large pair of strong, hairy arms grabbed her and brought her back to her feet.  Recovering, but still flustered, Mayli looked up to a see a Wookie nodding down at her, saying something in his growling voice.  Mayli knew enough Wookie to realize he asked if she were alright.

            “Yes.  Thank you so much,” she said, smiling up at him. 

            Wires moved up next to them.  “Mayli, this here is Chewbacca.  Chewbacca, Mayli, pilot extraordinaire.  Mayli, Chewbacca is co-pilot to Han Solo, that cocky bastard everyone has been talking about lately.”

            Mayli just shrugged.  “Haven’t really been to town, Wires.  Been getting ready to move.”

            “Ah, that’s right, love,” Wires said.  “Gonna miss you.  Anyways, Chewbacca co-pilots that hunk of junk Corellian freighter…”

            The Wookie howled in protest, but Mayli interrupted.

            “Not that beautiful YT-1300?”

            Chewbacca turned and voiced a very pleased yes.

            “My father’s company built those.  That one is in pretty good shape, considering the age.  You must take good care of her.”

            Chewbacca howled his delight, patting Mayli a bit too hard on the upper arm.  Despite feeling a bit jarred, an idea came upon her.

            “Chewbacca, would you and this…Han Solo…be interested in some delivery contracts?”

            Wires snorted a laugh beside her.  “Han Solo…do deliveries for wineries and botanists?  That guy and his Wookie are smugglers.  And in trouble with Jabba.  The man dumped a shipment of Jabba’s to escape some Imperials, but Jabba wants the money anyways.”

            “Typical,” Mayli said, again happy to be away from Jabba’s employment.

            “The kid needs to pay the Hutt back or bounty hunters are going to be all over his ass,” continued Wires.  “You know Jabba.”

            Mayli studied Chewbacca, who looked a bit disgruntled by Wires’ comments.

            “Maybe he would like some steady work,” Mayli said, feeling a bit of kinship with this unknown Han Solo, the sole reason her sentimentality of the ship.

            The Wookie put his arm around Mayli and led her to another part of the cantina.  She turned to glance at Wires, who simply shrugged.

            “I’ll be back at the table,” he said, and she nodded.

            Mayli followed Chewbacca through the crowd, realizing how nice to be as tall as a Wookie, people just moving aside as you walked.  Arriving at a dark booth in the back, a young man sat, brown hair, handsome face, playful eyes, wearing typical Corellian garb.  He rose as Chewbacca and Mayli approached, flashing her a charming, flirtatious smile.

            “Han,” he said.

            “Mayli,” she introduced herself, but before she could continue with her business offer, Chewbacca interrupted. 

            Han seemed irritated with the roaring Wookie.  “Listen, I can figure this out on my own, Chewie…hey, that wasn’t my fault…no, we will not pay with our lives.  I have a plan…okay, so I can’t explain it just yet…”

            Mayli now broke in, sliding into the booth.  “I heard you are in need of some work to get money to pay back Jabba.  I used to work for him but went back into business for myself.  Now, my husband, daughter and I are leaving, and I need to pass along some of my customers.”

            Han raised an eyebrow.  “Wow, thanks sweetheart.  What’s the work?”

            Mayli grimaced a bit in irritation at this stranger calling her sweetheart.  She could see Wires’ assessment of him being cocky just in the way he presented himself.  Sure, Obi-Wan had all sorts of pet names for her she loved, and even Wires calling her “love” was nice, as they’d know each other for over sixteen years.  But this Han calling her sweetheart…ugh.

            “Yes, I run product delivery for a couple of business, and I have two final contracts, one for a brewery out of Mos Espa and another…”

            “Wait…just food and textiles and…”

            “Yes, these are steady, continuing contracts.  And I’d be happy to…” she continued, but he again interrupted.

            “Listen, I’m a smuggler.  And the Millennium Falcon is the fastest ship in the galaxy,” he said, and he leaned toward her, his eyes glittering with delight. “We made the Kessel Run in under 12 parsecs.”

            Mayli began to laugh.  “Ridiculous.”

            Han scowled.  “I’m not kidding!  Right, Chewie?”

            Mayli glanced over at the Wookie, who nodded aggressively.  She’d definitely need to check the facts on this one. 

            “Anyway, I do big items…that kind of speed is not wasted on hauling the latest fashions or wine for some rich idiots on Alderaan,” Han said, leaning back and sharing his charming smile with her once again.

            Mayli shrugged and rose.  “Your loss…but I do compliment you on…the Millennium Falcon.  She truly is a beauty,” she said, moving away, hoping now to just pass the contracts off on Wires, glad she was never as young and stupid as this Han Solo.

            Returning to Wires with an ale, they both laughed over the foolish kid.

            “Oh, he’ll learn,” said Mayli.  “But the Kessel Run thing is true?”

            “Yup, know someone who was there,” Wires said, taking a long drink.

            “Well, Chewbacca is nice.  If I encounter someone who needs to escape Tatooine fast, I know who to recommend,” Mayli said, and then another thought struck her.  “Goodness, I hope Zella never becomes interested in a guy like that.”

            Wires laughed.  “She’s still a baby.”

            “Fifteen,” Mayli said, not for the first time wondering where all the years went.

            “Fifteen,” Wires repeated.  “Thinking about Ben as her father and you as her mother…well, I pity the poor boy who ever glances her way.”

            Mayli raised a silent toast to Wires.

            At the Kenobi homestead, Obi-Wan stood beside his daughter, both with lightsabers ignited, looking at the two men standing before them.  Jac, the Sith clairvoyant, smiled warmly at him, but the young man beside the elder looked nervous, staring guiltily at Zella.

            Jac aged well in the nearly two decades since Obi-Wan last laid eyes on him.  He dressed regally in full robes of rich, dark colors, his once black hair streaked in silver, dark eyes filled with a knowing wit.  The boy, who appeared about Zella’s age, resembled Jac greatly, and Obi-Wan immediately guessed this to be Jac’s son.  He became startled when he remembered a dream, years ago, featuring these two.  The memory hit him so hard, he deactivated his blade and opened his mouth to speak.

            But Zella surprised him by speaking first.

            “How dare you trick me!” she yelled, anger penetrating the air.  Obi-Wan glanced over, shocked to see her near tears and addressing the boy specifically.  “Here I think you are some cute, nice guy, and I get up the nerve to talk to you, and you are a rotten Sith and…”

            “Hey, I had no idea you are the daughter of the man we were looking for,” the boy fired back, his face flushed, his eyes seeming to plead with her.  “I just wanted to have caf with you and…”

            “Really?” Zella asked, her voice softening.  Still, she did not lower her staff.

            Obi-Wan stared at her.  Cute, nice guy?  Caf?  What had she been doing in town, seeing some boy?  And now, the way she looked at this kid…Obi-Wan felt his insides churn slightly.

            The boy laughed.  “Yes.  You stood out in town, and I could feel the Force in you…strong, shining.”

            Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, the sudden urge to ignite his blade passing through him. 

            Beside him, Zella lowered her staff.  “Listen, maybe I was…”

            “Enough children,” Jac said, raising his hand and gesturing as if to brush them aside.  “We have business of galaxy-level proportions to discuss.”

            Obi-Wan started, realizing his attention shifted to his daughter’s flirtations with this boy and not the immediate problem of a known and dangerous Sith standing before him.  Yes, the nineteen years and raising a daughter did shift his priorities a bit.

            “Ben…Obi-Wan Kenobi, so nice to see you again,” Jac said politely. 

            “I cannot say the same,” Obi-Wan retorted harshly.  “Why have you come?”

            “No need to be rude,” Jac said.  “By the end of the day, I feel we will be good comrades, as we both want the same thing.”

            “And what is that?”

            “Revenge against Sheev Palpatine, that old, dusty, yet all-powerful Sith currently ruling our galaxy,” Jac said.

            Obi-Wan felt his heart rate quicken.  “Revenge is not the Jedi way,” he said, sounding unconvincing. 

            Jac laughed, not an unpleasant sound.  “Come now, of all the people the Emperor has wronged in his decades long climb to the top, the Jedi might hold one of the top three positions.  You are human, and humans seek vengeance when wronged.  And he wronged you greatly.  Massacring the Jedi is one thing, but stealing your apprentice, turning him to the Dark Side…”

            “What?” asked Zella, who turned off her lightsaber and now stared at her father.

            Jac looked legitimately surprised.  “Why my dear girl, your father has not shared with you the tragic tale of Darth Vader the Broken, formerly Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One?”

            Zella gasped.  “Darth Vader…he was Anakin?!  Wait, Anakin’s surname was…Skywalker...Luke!”

            Obi-Wan stomped up to Jac, now standing a foot away, face-to-face.  Still, the Sith did not move but stared almost lovingly at Obi-Wan. 

            “Why have you come here, to taunt me?” Obi-Wan hissed.  “There is no longer a Jedi Order, Anakin is dead, and…”

            Jac’s face became serious.  “Years ago, when you were a guest of the Sith Scholars…”

            “Guest!?  You abducted me!”

            “Well, whichever terminology you prefer.  When you were with us, I had my first vision, of you dueling Darth Vader and perishing…but not dying in the normal way.  Vanishing,” Jac said.  “Do you remember?  I told you this.”

            “Yes…and you mentioned the place was called Death Star, some space station,” Obi-Wan said, remembering like it was yesterday.  He’d thought of Jac’s words often.  Vader…vanishing.

            “Over the years, other visions emerged, and until last week, they appeared random.  And then, as I mourned and raged and plotted my ultimate vengeance on my master, everything fell into place.  You…all those years ago…I knew then and know with great certainty now.  You and I are connected.  You and I…right here, right now…we start the chain of events to shatter everything Sheev built.”

            The words delivered so matter-of-factly sent a shiver through Obi-Wan.  He sensed no deception from the man.

            “You somehow get to the Death Star…I do not know how, but you are in the company of a blonde kid I saw in town.  He felt like Vader when I walked by him.  On this station, you fight Vader and vanish…but you become a Force Spirit.  I’ve seen you sabotaging the station, deep in the mechanisms, a ghost disabling shields and data ports.  While the station is already weak, pre-sabotaged by its designer, which I honestly find uproariously amusing, you remove the post-design, during-construction mechanisms that strengthened the weakness, making it a piece of sweet Hapes crumble cake for the Rebel fleet to destroy the Death Star,” Jac said.  “Meanwhile, I take care of the other projects of the Empire, the Sun Crusher and the biological weapons and the others in the labs throughout the galaxy, one at a time.”

            Obi-Wan stared at him, dumbfounded.  He finally found his voice. “But…Force Spirits cannot sabotage a ship…how is it that I vanish, no body…and the Rebellion…wait, what’s a Sun Crusher?”

            A knowing smile spread across Jac’s face.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out several data chips and a holocron, the one Obi-Wan recognized from the Sith Scholars’ library, thankfully not the one he’d been tempted by years ago. 

            “I have a short amount of time to educate you, bring you up to date on your mission, our mission,” Jac said as if speaking to a soldier.  “This is your destiny, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

            Mayli zoomed across the desert from Mos Eisley, feeling a large weight had been lifted off her shoulders in finally getting rid of those last two delivery contracts.  Now she could focus on the move to Chiss space, seeing her daughter off to the university and settling into her later years with Obi-Wan.

            Approaching their homestead on the edge of the Jundland Wastes, she narrowed her eyes, seeing something in the distance at the bottom of their hill, metallic, glittering in the late afternoon suns.  Curious.  But growing closer, her heart nearly stopped.  A ship.  A ship she knew.  The ship belonging to the Sith Scholars.

            Parking the Nebula Flame next to the yacht, she dashed up the path, wishing she were a bit younger and could move a little faster.  Reaching the top, she stopped short.  Four people sat in the meditation garden she built for Obi-Wan years ago.  On one bench, Ben and Zella, both turning and rising as she approached.  Obi-Wan looked deeply sad, Zella stricken.  On the benches across, but now also rising, sat a young man unknown to her and the Sith Scholar Jac, still handsome, but with the same leering stare.

            “What the fuck are you doing here?” she screamed at him, causing her daughter’s jaw to drop.  She hardly used such language. 

            Obi-Wan stopped her from dashing at the approaching Jac, placing both hands on her shoulders.

            “Darling…he comes with a plan…to help the galaxy, defeat the Emperor.  And it makes sense,” he said quietly, and she saw in his eyes the truth.

            “This is it…that sense we’ve both been feeling,” she whispered, and tears sprang to her eyes.  She hated crying in front of others, but the tears slid down her cheeks now without her permission.  Glancing over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, she saw Zella weeping too.  And beyond, the younger man looking devastated.

            Only Jac looked happy, a sort of jolly glee that made him look mad surrounded by others so upset.

            He approached.  “Mayli.  You look lovely as ev…”

            Mayli shrugged off Obi-Wan, ran up to Jac, and punched him square in the jaw with all her might.

 

 

****


	7. The Plan

**Chapter Seven**

**The Plan**

Mayli sat across the kitchen table from Jac, who nursed his bruised chin with a rag of cool water, looking back at her almost amused.  His smugness made her want to punch him again.  How could he be here, in their home, at their table?  Some plan to save the galaxy?  Something Ben seemed to be going along with despite the fact this man was a Sith?  How had the day, which began like most others, turned into this?

            “I want to know everything,” she said.  “Now.”

            Jac reached into his pocket and spilled several data chips as well as the holocron she recognized from years ago, not the one she’d taken, but another of the original three from the Sith base.  She shuddered, remembering Obi-Wan’s encounter with the other holocron, his frightening brush with the Dark Side.  Now he looked stoic regarding the pieces on the table, and Mayli knew everything would change this evening, their future plans obliterated. 

            She turned to the two teenagers, Zella and Jac’s son Sam, who leaned against the counter watching the adults.

            “Zella, please take Sam outside, show him around,” Mayli said firmly, her eyes indicating her daughter should not protest.

            Zella got the point and nodded, leading the boy outside.

            Mayli’s attention snapped back to Jac.  “Listen, you prick.  I don’t know what kind of…”

            “Darling,” Obi-Wan interrupted, and his voice had a strange sereneness about it.  She locked eyes with him, and sadness welled in her, threatening to come out in tears again, this time wracked with sobs.  “Mayli, this is it.  The Force calls to me…to him…to us.  This is the beginning…”

            “Of the end,” Jac finished, and for the first time he looked serious.  Sad.  Distraught.

            “Explain,” she said.

            Jac picked up a small data chip.  “For nearly two decades now, since our departure, I have worked as an apprentice to Emperor Palpatine, or as he is known amongst his accolades, Darth Sidious.”

            Mayli heard Ben’s sharp intake of breath.  

            “While Vader plays warrior, I took on the role of scientist, working on projects using the Force, the Dark Side.  In this capacity, I have access to all the Empire’s research and development,” Jac continued.

            “And how did this Sam come to be?” Mayli hissed.  “Grow him in a test tube?”

            Dangerous anger flashed across Jac’s face.  “I had a wife.  Callie.  She died last week.  Killed.  Murdered.”

            “Oh,” said Mayli weakly. 

Silence fell over the table. Jac fiddled with a data chip, twirling it between his fingers, seeming lost in thought.

“Callie…was a Jedi who survived the purge,” he said.  “Worked at Imperial Human Resources undercover, plotting to kill Sheev.  I stopped her.  We fell in love.  I thought she would remain hidden…I thought…he wouldn’t….”

Silence again.  Mayli swallowed hard, unexpectedly sorry for Jac.

Jac suddenly glared at her.  “Don’t pity me.”

“Please…explain the plan to Mayli,” Obi-Wan said.

Jac flicked the chip in his hand her way, and she caught it in her palm.

“This are the most recent specs for the Death Star, the Empire’s combo space station and super weapon, which can destroy a planet,” Jac explained.  “The original architect seems to be a bit of a rebel, as he designed a flaw in the reactor, which can blow with a single hit.  I can only assume he did this to assist the Rebellion.  Clever.  I might be the only one to have seen it…but I am a genius after all.”  The smugness returned, and Mayli actually found this comforting after the previous anger.

“Well, why didn’t you tell the Emperor?” Mayli asked angrily.

Jac raised an eyebrow.  “I can’t stand that asshole Tarkin.”

“So?”

“The Death Star is his baby.  I would just love to see him fail.  That’s why I plan to head toward his labs in the Maw Cluster during my destructive tour of the galaxy,” Jac said with a warm grin.

Then something occurred to her, and she rose.  “We should get these plans to the Rebellion and…”

“Sit down and cool it, babe,” he said, waving her aside.  “They already have them…or will.  I saw it in a vision two weeks ago, although I didn’t understand it until I pieced this all together.  Unfortunately, my visions don’t come with dates, so I don’t know if they have the plans yet or not.  No, no…these plans are for ol’ Ben here.  To study.”

“Why?”

“He needs to sabotage the Death Star.”

Mayli stared at him, eyebrow raised.  “But you said yourself, the flaw in the design…”

“Have you ever built anything?” Jac asked, eyebrows raised.

“I’m a pilot and a mechanic…of course!”

“Then you know sometimes things change during the building process.  Contractors working on the Death Star noticed possible weaknesses, installed shields.  These are not in the original plans, which the Rebellion will have.  Only in the latest specification and updates,” Jac said, nodding toward the data chip.  “And that chip, downloaded mere hours ago, contains everything recent.”

“Then the Rebellion needs it now!” Mayli argued.

Jac shook his head.  “And what would they do?  This is an inside job.  Someone inside the Death Star.  Someone who dies on the Death Star and comes back as a Force Spirit and sabotages the station,” Jac said.  

Mayli began to laugh.  “You are a fool.  I know some things about the Force.  A Force Ghost cannot manipulate its environment.”  She turned to Ben.  “You know this too.”

Obi-Wan nodded.  “That is where I am puzzled as well.  But I disappear…I vanish.  I told you about this vision of his, years ago.”

A slamming sound brought Mayli’s eyes back to Jac. He’d brought the holocron down hard on the table.  “This holocron…the master of this cube knows the ways of becoming a Force Spirit.”

Mayli laughed spitefully again.  “Obi-Wan’s former master already came back and taught him.”

Jac turned to Obi-Wan.  “But he could not manipulate his environment, correct?”

“His hands would pass right through things,” Ben answered.

“And there was a body after he died?”

“Yes.”

“But you, Obi-Wan Kenobi…you vanish.  And that makes all the difference.  You will learn when you enter the holocron with me and…”

Mayli stood again, thrusting the holocron out of Jac’s hand, the Sith surprised.  She threw the cube across the room, the piece landing on the sofa.

“No!” she shouted.  “He will not go near that thing…and you will take your son and…”

“Mayli,” Obi-Wan said, rising and pulling her aside, down the hall, into their bedroom.  “Dearest…I know this sounds crazy…”

“That chip needs to get to Senator Organa!”

“But…this feels right.  In every way…this feels…this is what I’ve been waiting all this time for…my destiny,” he said, his voice level and quiet.

“But you die!” she sobbed.  “Vanish or not…you are gone.  Forever.”

Standing in their room, they held one another, and soon Obi-Wan joined her in crying.  Yes, she knew, like him, that this was happening, this would work.  She always knew, the moment she learned she loved a Jedi, that a sacrifice would need to be made for that love.  And now the time had come.

Sam stood beside Zella as they regarded the view of the desert, both silent and pensive.

“Well, mom asked me to show you around,” Zella finally said, gesturing out to the great expanse of sand.  “Here it is.  The desert.”

Sam smiled over at her but did not catch her eye.  She stared sadly out over the Tatooine landscape.

“I can’t believe dad didn’t tell me…about Anakin being Vader,” Zella said, still not meeting Sam’s eyes.  “He tells me all these wonderful stories about his best friend…a man he considered a brother and…and…that same man is responsible for the fall of the Jedi, the rise of the Empire.  And Luke…I just saw him today!”

Sam just nodded, not knowing all she spoke of.  He just knew that Zella seemed shocked by her dad’s tales as the four sat together earlier.

“Today,” Zella repeated.  “This morning…we all had breakfast like usual.  It was an ordinary day, like a thousand others here on the Jundland Wastes and…and…you and your dad show up and I find out my dad is going to die and…it was just an ordinary day.”

Sam again looked out at the desert, understanding Zella completely.  “Yeah.  That’s how I felt last week, the day my mom died.  The night before, the three of us went to the opera, out to dinner, like we’d done dozens of times.  And I sat with her and had caf the next morning, talking with her about my studies before I left.  And then…everything was different when I got home.”  He sniffed, trying not to cry, but the realization he’d never see his mother again came on strong and painful.  He wiped his nose with his sleeve, finally stealing a glance at Zella.

She looked at him, her red-blonde locks moving in the slight breeze, deep blue eyes taking him in, studying him, understanding him. 

“Tell me about her,” Zella said.

“She was a Jedi…and very funny…and she taught me how to use a lightsaber.  Dad’s terrible,” he said.

“You have a lightsaber?” Zella asked.

“Yes,” he said.  “But a single blade, not like yours.  But I mostly focus on my hands.”

“Hands?”

“When I touch things, the Force tells me their history.  Like when I touched your hand, I could see you were a Jedi.  And I saw other things too,” Sam said.

Zella’s eyes widened.  “What?  You didn’t see…”

Sam could feel himself reddening.  “No!  No…um…just you and your family.  Very brief.”

Narrowing her eyes and studying him, she relaxed again.  “I’m sorry about your mother.”

“I’m sorry about your father.”

Zella nodded.  “You and I, we have good skills.  We can join the Rebellion.”

“I’m going with my dad.  To the labs.  To destroy the experiments, the data, the prototypes,” Sam said.

“I can help with that!” said Zella excitedly, and Sam found himself enjoying her gumption, even though they both seemed a little traumatized at the moment.

“Maybe…I’d…I’d like that,” Sam said, trying not to sound eager but casual.

Zella led him around the house, moving back toward the garden where they sat before, listening to her father’s revelation.

“Have you ever met Darth Vader?” she asked.

“Once, last year.  At a banquet.  Many of the higher officials attended, the Emperor putting out a feast and…”

“You’ve met the Emperor?”

“A couple of times,” Sam said, not knowing by her look if this information impressed her or made her suspicious of him.  “Anyways, the banquet was actually nice.  Mom never attended these things with dad, but he would bring me on occasion, when families were welcome.  And that night was actually fun, a couple guys from my school were there…”

“You went to school?”

“The Imperial Science Academy,” Sam said, wondering what his classmates would think when he never showed up for classes.  “The banquet was fine and suddenly Darth Vader enters, and the room just dies, silent, everyone uncomfortable.  His breathing…you can hear every breathe he takes.  And he’s known for killing people underneath him, people who don’t serve him well.”

“My mom met him once,” Zella said.  “But to think he was Anakin…one of my dad’s best friends.” She grew silent again and an entire minute passed.  “The duel my father mentioned.  He must have really messed Anakin up.”

Sam hadn’t thought about this when he heard the story the hour before, how Zella’s father fought Vader and thought he’d been dead. 

“As my dad told the story…I was angry with him.  I mean, why didn’t he tell me?” Zella said.  “But…to think he had to fight his friend, his brother…he loved Anakin…and Anakin betrayed everyone.  My dad…he’s been through so much.  I don’t think I fully understood it until now.”

Sam nodded, thinking of his own father, quite a different man from this Obi-Wan

“Did he eat?” Zella asked, after another long silence.

“Huh?  Who?”

“Vader.  Did he eat at the banquet?”

“No.  He roamed around for a bit, then left.  Took a while for the guests to recover,” Sam answered.

“I wonder what he eats,” said Zella wistfully.

“Nuts, bolts, I don’t know,” Sam said, then made his voice deep and dramatic, like a narrator of a trailer for an upcoming holodrama.  “He feeds off the fear of others.”

Zella turned to him, a beautiful smile spreading across her face, and then she laughed delightedly, making Sam’s heart feel light despite the heaviness of their recent conversation, the current events of the day.  Images of he and Zella, lightsabers blazing as they ran through Palpatine’s secret labs, fighting off stormtroopers and destroying weapons prototypes, filled his mind.

            Obi-Wan stood at the window next to Jac, watching his daughter and the Sith’s son sitting on the bench in the garden Mayli built for him years ago, laughing and talking, obviously taken with one another.  He felt deeply dismayed from this view, knowing his protectiveness as a father reared up within him

            “Well, that would certainly be interesting,” Jac said with a little chuckle.

            Obi-Wan turned and glared deeply at Jac.  Did he imply Obi-Wan’s intelligent, talented, and beautiful daughter would end up with the son of some evil Sith, an apprentice to Palpatine himself?  Obi-Wan could taste bile.

            “Over my dead body,” he hissed.

            Jac laughed.  “According to my visions, there is no body.”

            Obi-Wan opened his mouth to retort, but Mayli emerged from their bedroom, having cleaned up her face from crying.

            “Okay…Jac,” she said.  “When are you two going into that…holocron.”

            “We need several hours…Cal and I would often spend an entire day with Si,” Jac said.

            “Si?” asked Obi-Wan.

            “Darth Silenus,” Jac said, a grin spreading across his face.  “Oh, you’re going to enjoy him.  He’s the creator of the holocron.” Jac paused.  “But I’m tired.  We both need energy to open the cube.  I suggest we begin in the morning.”

            Mayli nodded. “Then…would you like to stay for dinner?” she asked, the words seeming to come through gritted teeth, forced politeness.  Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile, remembering why he fell in love with Mayli to begin with years ago.

            Dinner began as strained, but when Mayli asked about news from the Imperial Center, conversation seemed to flow evenly.  Obi-Wan almost forgot his days were numbered, and his mind drifted from Jac’s stories of new architectural adventures on Coruscant to the fact he would die in days…a week…a month?  He felt a little perturbed at Jac’s uncertainty at time, but then remembered how the Force did act in strange ways.

            A lull in the conversation brought him back, and Zella’s voice suddenly filled the void. 

            “What am I to do?” she asked, looking at him. 

            “What do you mean?” Obi-Wan asked.

            “Dad, you trained me to be a Jedi,” Zella said.  “I go with you.  I can fight.  I can…”

            “No,” Obi-Wan said evenly.  “You go to the university like we planned and…”

            “But dad, what was all that training for?!  We are the last of the Jedi!  Luke Skywalker…he might be Force sensitive, but he doesn’t know anything!  I can fight!  Take on the Imperials…join the Rebellion,” she said, her eyes pleading with him.

            “No,” he said again, simply.

            Silence again, Zella staring at him angrily.

            “But dad!” she protested.

            Obi-Wan rose in a swift movement and slammed his fist down hard on the table, upsetting a few plates.  The anger rose in him so quickly, he frightened himself.

            “No!” he bellowed, seeing the entire group shocked.  “No!  My daughter will not be sacrificed for the good of the galaxy.  I have given everything…everything!  I will not give my daughter!  Anakin’s child can be sacrificed…not mine!”

            The words hung in the air and seemed to cool the room several degrees.  Obi-Wan felt shocked at his own speech, definitely not the Jedi way.  But he realized this is truly how he felt, so he didn’t speak again, could not lie to the group, who stared at him in disbelief.  All except Jac, who looked up at him with a wise, knowing expression, nodding slowly. 

            Obi-Wan thought about Luke.  He held no ill will toward the boy, wished he could have gotten to know Anakin’s son.  And from what Jac said, he would get a chance, however brief.  But Zella, his daughter, his bright light…she meant everything to him.  She would go away, hide like they planned, protected.  No, he would not give her over. 

            Yes…Anakin did this.  He pays, not Obi-Wan.

            Despicable thoughts, yes.  Cruel, heartless. But at least the Sith in the room approved, Obi-Wan thought sardonically.

            Obi-Wan sat back down, paying too much attention to his food.

            “Okay, daddy,” Zella said softly.

            Obi-Wan looked at her, now trying to choke back tears.  He reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

            “Well, the new transit station is quite a sight,” Jac said, returning to the previous conversation.  “They used this new type of plastic for the railings and…”

            That night, Obi-Wan and Mayli lie in bed, clinging to one another.

            “I’ll take the kids to Mos Espa tomorrow,” she said.  “Get them out of here so you and that ass…”

            “Jac,” Obi-Wan sighed then laughed.

            “Jac…are you sure you can trust him?”

            “Yes…I’m certain.  I know through the Force.”

            Mayli sighed heavily.  “This is it, then?

            “Yes.”

            “When you are a Force Ghost, will you haunt me?” she asked.

            Obi-Wan heart hurt again.  Mayli, not Force sensitive, would not see or hear him.  But what about this Darth Silenus, who held all these secrets of the Force Spirit?

            “But if you do haunt me,” Mayli continued.  “Don’t do stupid parlor tricks, like write on the ‘fresher mirror in blood, those dumb stereotypes from those horror holodramas.”

            Obi-Wan smiled in the dark, not replying, loving her for her ability to always find the humor in even the most tragic situation.

            A comfortable silence followed as the two held one another, both mentally preparing to face the inevitable.

 

 


	8. Darth Silenus

**Chapter Eight**

**Darth Silenus**

            Jac leaned on the doorframe of the ‘fresher, watching his son fix his hair for at least the tenth time in five minutes, studying himself in the mirror, practicing his best grin.  Despite the prime moment to tease his teenage boy about his obvious affections for the Kenobi girl, Jac felt a deep sadness descend upon him.  The previous evening, as he and Sam returned to their yacht after dinner with the Kenobis, Jac made up his mind about Sam’s involvement in the upcoming sabotage of the Empire.

            And the resolution broke his already ailing heart.

            Use that sadness, Jac coached himself, smiling at his boy as he applied a little too much product to his floppy mess of dark hair.  Turn the grief into anger.  Turn the anger into hate.  And turn that hate into vengeance against Sidious.

            Sam finally turned to his father, straightening his deep green robes, which complemented his eyes.  Jac flinched, suddenly, painfully, reminded of the boy’s mother.

            “Do I look okay?”  Sam asked, not seeming to notice his father’s turmoil.  “I mean, I know I only see Zella for one day, but…I want her to like me.”

            Jac laughed.  “I think she’s already interested, Sammy.  Just show her some of that charm.  That quick wit and humor you got from me.” He winked as Sam rolled his eyes.

            Deep down, that subtle pain of loss ached.  Yes Sam, be enduring, be charming.  The Kenobis are our only hope.

            Up on the hill, inside the Kenobi homestead, Obi-Wan sat on the sofa, waiting for the arrival of Jac, his son, and the holocron.  As discussed the previous evening, Mayli would take the kids on a day trip to Mos Espa, leaving Obi-Wan and the Sith to the holocron.

            Next to him, Mayli sipped a cup of caf and held his hand, Zella appearing before them suddenly for the third time, in a completely different outfit from ten minutes ago.

            “So I thought maybe these blue robes,” she said, looking at her parents for approval.

            “They do bring out your eyes,” said Mayli.

            Zella nodded and looked to her father. 

            “You look lovely,” he said truthfully, sighing heavily.

            Zella beamed at him, then skipped down the hall to do her hair.

            Mayli elbowed Obi-Wan.  “Hey, you can drop the overprotective father act.  Zella can take care of herself.  And Sam is a nice boy…”

            “And a Sith.”

            “Maybe not…”

            “His father is a Sith,” Obi-Wan argued.

            “And mother a Jedi…”

            “Yes, and about that…” Obi-Wan said, turning to Mayli, picking up his caf from the table and taking a large gulp.  He spit it out as it scorched his throat.  He sputtered.

            Mayli leaned forward and kissed his cheek as Zella entered again.

            “Hair up or down?” she asked.

            “Up.  It’ll get sweaty,” Mayli said, her smiling eyes still looking at Obi-Wan as he recovered.

            “Right,” said Zella, disappearing again.

            “Yes…this Jedi,” Obi-Wan said weakly.  “How do we know this?  I never heard of her…”

            “You didn’t know everyone.  And by then, weren’t you a Master?  And a general?”

            “Yes, but surely this boy is trained in the ways of the Dark Side,” Obi-Wan argued.

            Mayli gave him a sad look.  “Ben, even I can feel it now.  The Dark Side is everywhere.  Sweetheart, you are even entering a Sith holocron today.  And this boy actually seems like a bright spot.  Let him and Zella have a nice day.  It’ll be their only day before…” Mayli stopped, then leaned in for another kiss.

            Yes, Mayli was right.  The tide of the Dark Side rolled across Tatooine now…with a twinge of hope.  The pieces were set on the game board.  Now Obi-Wan just needed to learn the rules.

            Zella re-emerged, her hair up in a simple braid, looking pretty, and Obi-Wan felt a surge of emotion, realizing with a jolt how much of his daughter’s life he would miss.  Fifteen years simply wasn’t enough time.

            A few hours later, Zella walked beside Sam, who looked curiously at the busy Mos Espa streets around them.  Having finally convinced her mother to meet with some of her pilot friends so she could be alone with Sam, Zella wondered what he thought of this simple world, probably so used to the bustle of metropolitan Coruscant.

            “So…what do you think?” Zella finally asked.

            “Do the poor…do they always just, well, sit around,” he asked, seeming legitimately baffled, nodding to an elderly human woman who leaned against the side of a building, looking blankly off into space.  Sam had stopped to regard her.  “There just seem to be so many…poor sentients.”

            “She’s probably homeless,” Zella said, eyeing him.  “Where do the poor go on Coruscant?”

            Sam shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I guess they are there somewhere.  I live in the palace district.  Ragged people don’t just sit along the side of the street.  The Emperor makes sure of this.” He frowned slightly, still looking at the woman.  “I wonder…” He glanced at Zella.  “You must find me terribly ignorant, huh?”

            “No…just from a different place,” Zella said, wondering now about the Emperor, what else got swept under the rug, out of eyesight.

            Then Sam surprised her.  He walked over to the woman, leaned down beside her, and took her hand, closing his eyes in the process.  The woman, who seemed to have lost her mind years ago, continued to stare, eyes emotionless.  Sam stayed still for several long moments, enough time for Zella to approach and kneel next to them.  Finally, he opened his eyes.

            “She…so much tragedy.  Abuse. It hurts,” he grimaced as he released her hand.  He removed a small pouch from his pocket and took out a golden coin.  Zella gasped.  She’d only heard of this ancient form of payment in stories.  Sam turned to Zella as he pressed the coin into the woman’s hand.  “Are you talented with mind manipulation?”

            The question surprised her.  “My father…he’s very good.  But I haven’t had the opportunity.”

            “Try,” coaxed Sam gently.  “Tell her to go to the café across the street.  For food.  Her name is Gola.”

            Zella studied the woman’s face.  “Gola?  Gola.  You will rise and use the coin to buy food.”

            Nothing…but then, the woman’s eyes seemed to clear, and she looked directly at Zella.

            “What was that, child?” she said feebly.

            “You will rise and use the coin to buy food.”

            The woman staggered to her feet, helped by Sam.  She smiled, then shuffled toward the shop.  Zella watched, her heart warmed.  She’d done it!  And used the skill for good. 

            Sam nodded after the woman.  “Let’s get lunch there and see that she is okay.”

            They sat a table away from Gola, who ate ravenously, brought whatever she desired, the proprietor looking shocked at the coin.  Zella’s attention turned to Sam who gathered in the room around him, and Zella suddenly felt puzzled.  He’d done something wonderfully nice and not just to impress her, she could feel this in the Force.  No, he’d just seen someone in need and helped.  What kind of a Sith was he?  Before she knew what happened, she’d said this question aloud.

            “What do you mean?” Sam asked, looking genuinely confused.

            “I mean…you’re a Sith…and…evil…um…” she faltered.

            “I’m a Force user.  And the Force is a spectrum,” he said.

            “But the Dark Side…” she began, then stopped.  She didn’t feel like talking philosophy.  This conversation made her think of her father and his impending mission and…death.  Her heart hurt.  She changed the subject.  “I like how your dad calls you Sammy.  Is that your nickname?”

            Sam rolled his eyes.  “Only mom and dad call me that…or dad.  It sounds silly and…”

            “I like it…Sammy,” she said playfully, watching him blush.  Goodness, had she just flirted successfully?

            “Well thank you…Zellie,” Sam said before diving back into eating his sandwich.

            The moment he said Zellie, something inside Zella lit up.  Recognition again.  She’d known him before…had she?

            “May I call you Sammy?” she asked.

            “You can call me whatever you want,” he said back, with an air of flirtatious smugness.

            Zella laughed, looking again at the woman, who now ate a large dessert, looking happy and satisfied.  Despite the darkness surrounding them and their current situation, things seemed good for the moment.

            But an hour later, as the teens walked through the shopping district of town, gazing at the booths, a silence fell between them, and Zella’s thoughts turned again to her father, right now inside the world of the Sith holocron.  Before she knew what happened, she’d burst into tears in the middle of the dusty road.  She felt Sam pull her to the side to avoid the busy traffic.

            “Zella…what’ wrong?”

            “My dad…he’s…he’s…he’s not going to be here anymore.  I don’t…I don’t…”

            But she sobbed, letting everything pour out of her, onto Sam’s shoulder, knowing she got his fine robes slobbery but unable to control her emotions.  Certainly not the Jedi way, but she knew even her father didn’t buy into the line in the Code, there is no emotion.

            Suddenly she realized Sam cried too, clutching her to him as if his life depended on her being in his arms.  How strange, these two people who met only yesterday, now bound together in tragedy, a tale spun years before their births.  She leaned back to look into his face, his bright eyes wet, handsome, chiseled features flushed and damp.  She could only imagine how she looked, snotty and red-eyed.  But she surprised herself in her boldness, standing on her toes and kissing his wet cheek softly, tasting the salt of his tears.  Before she could see his reaction, she embraced him again.  They stood together for several minutes at the side of the busy Mos Espa street before moving on to walk in silence, hand-in-hand.

            Obi-Wan sat across the kitchen table from Jac, the holocron between them.

            “So to open this cube, two individuals trained in different Force philosophies must enter together,” Jac explained.  “Darth Silenus will greet us…although the greeting is always different.”

            Feeling slightly apprehensive, Obi-Wan nodded.

            “Well old man, you ready?” Jac asked lightly.

            “Yes,” said Obi-Wan, a sense of determination filling him as he and Jac both reached for the holocron at the same time.

            The moment their fingers touched the cube, a bright red light flowed from the holocron.  Obi-Wan felt a deep pull in his chest, and his eyes flew open, having not realized he’d squeezed them shut.  The sky shone bright, a light blue, the air warm and pleasantly fragrant.  Looking around him, Obi-Wan realized he stood in the middle of some sort of orchard, bushes of a red berry around him, a large building in the distance. 

            Obi-Wan turned to his right to see Jac standing with him, smiling, taking a deep breath.

            “Lovely, isn’t it?” he asked.  “Now where is…”

            “Jac!” came a deep, inviting voice, and Obi-Wan swung around to see a rather plump, jolly looking man moving toward them.  Balding, rosy cheeks on pale skin, wearing simple brown robes, the man approaching them gave off a feeling of happiness and…something else.  Something was different about this holocron gatekeeper, different from any other holocron he ever encountered, Jedi or Sith.

            Jac and the man embraced, then turned to Obi-Wan. 

            “This is Darth Silenus…” Jac began.

            “No…no…call me Si,” the man said, approaching Obi-Wan who extended his hand but was embraced by the Sith.  The man felt solid.  In fact, everything about this holocron felt very real.

            “Ah…a Jedi,” the man said.

            “Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he answered.  “I am…was…a member of the council, and I…”

            “Yes, yes,” Si said, waving his hand in dismissal and turning to Jac.  “Come try my latest wine.  Been fermenting to the point where the air in my storehouse is thick with the rich, sweet smell.  Ready to be bottled.”

            The trio moved toward the building, a beautiful, simple structure of brick, Obi-Wan wondering what planet they were on.

            “Where is Callie?” asked Si.

            “She…is away,” stammered Jac, seeming caught off guard by the question.  He recovered quickly.  “Brought this old man in to learn the secrets of the Force Spirit.  Says he knows how to become one, but not how to be anything other than a shade.”

            “Ah, now that is my specialty,” Si said, turning to Obi-Wan and grinning broadly.  “In fact the only purpose of this holocron…along with some excellent wine.  Come have some.  Enjoy yourself, Master Jedi.  I’m afraid the Jedi gave up on indulgences years ago.  Pity, really.  Might have been a bit more effective, lasted a bit longer, if you knew how to live.  How to connect with others instead of being all high and mighty above them.”

            Jac laughed.  “This Jedi…he’s one of the last, survived the Purge I told you about.  And he seemed to have done some living.  Has a woman…”

            “Excellent.”

            “Even served as a bartender, I’ve heard.”

            “Oh, I like him better already,” Si laughed.  “The Jedi, like the Sith, are fools.  Following some Code.  The Force is too vast to be put into any category.”

            “Then why do you take the ancient Sith title of Darth,” asked Obi-Wan.

            “I studied the Force, the entire spectrum.  I served as a Jedi, then a Sith, then myself…and finally, life.  The Living Force…”

            At those words, Obi-Wan felt a sudden kinship with this man.  The Living Force, the philosophy of Qui-Gon.

            “As for the title Darth…Darth Silenus has a nice ring to it.  One’s name should please the owner, correct?  Obi-Wan Kenobi…that is quite fun to say…rolls off the tongue.  Do you like it?”

            Obi-Wan never gave his name much thought, other than wondering about the family history of Kenobi.  But yes, he did like his name.  He loved when Mayli said it, even in anger.  He smiled, feeling even more relaxed around Darth Silenus. 

            Entering the building, Obi-Wan found the holocron master did not lie.  The air smelled delicious, and slightly intoxicating, making Obi-Wan’s head a bit light, himself instantly more comfortable.  A table laden with snacks of all sorts sat in the middle, and Si fetched wine glasses filled to the brim for the men.

            Settling into the chair opposite Obi-Wan, Jac off to the side, Si leaned toward the Jedi.  “So, tell me what you already know about the nature of the Force Ghost.”

            Obi-Wan launched into his explanation, the learning he’d received from Qui-Gon years ago, before the man made the decision to join the Force.  Si listened with a twinkle in his eye, nodding from time to time. When Obi-Wan finished, he gestured to the still full wine glass.

            “Now drink.  Drink, master Jedi,” Si insisted, and Obi-Wan raised the glass to his lips, the sweet liquid pouring down his throat.  Simply wonderful.

            Studying the glass now half-full, he pondered this.  He’d never eaten or drank in a holocron, yet he could taste the wine, feel its effects.

            “How is this possible?” Obi-Wan asked, glancing over at Jac whose glass was already empty. 

The Sith smiled warmly at him as he turned to Si, completely ignoring Obi-Wan’s question.  “Obi-Wan here has a mission to fulfill which will be better served by a Force Spirit.  He needs to learn how to manipulate his environment in the afterlife.”

Si nodded.  “Well, becoming a Force Spirit with such abilities is not terribly difficult.  You already know quite a bit from your master…about keeping a hold on the string…on the flow rather…of the Living Force.  But if you want to be a powerful Force Ghost, you cannot leave your matter behind, like your master did.  You must take it with you.”

“Take my matter with me,” Obi-Wan repeated.  Yes, that did make sense.

“When you are a mere spirit, you cannot manipulate your environment.  But if you have matter belonging to your being…well, that is something else entirely,” Si explained.  “That is why you disappear rather than leave your body behind.  And yes, over the years the matter belonging to your spirit will drift away until you are eventually no more.  Then, joining the Living Force is my recommendation.”

Obi-Wan nodded, remembering Qui-Gon’s fatigue during their last meeting.  And he wasn’t hauling around matter, attempting to keep minute particles together.

Si laughed.  “And if you are very talented, you can absorb anything touching you into your being, such as clothing, your weapon.  My master, the one who taught me these skills, was powerful and did that very thing.”

“Obi-Wan leaves behind his clothing and lightsaber,” Jac explained, then grinned broadly at the Jedi.  “Perhaps not as powerful as he would like.”

Obi-Wan frowned.  “You mean I’m going to reappear somewhere naked?” he asked.

Si laughed.  “Sounds like it.  Should provide some humor in what is sure to be a frighteningly tragic moment.  But considering where you will end up, you may want to manifest clothing quickly.  Many individuals can see Force Spirits, people who do not know they have Force sensitivity.”

Obi-Wan nodded, remembering how Solla, his former employer at Jabba’s bar, could see Qui-Gon when he appeared to visit Obi-Wan.

“Hmmm…” Obi-Wan said, beginning to consider everything.  So if the chain of events played out as Jac mentioned, he would confront Vader, die, reappear somewhere on the Death Star, apparently naked, and proceed to sabotage the ship before the Rebellion arrived.  He would need to study the Death Star plans before leaving Tatooine.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan began laughing aloud, then paused to drain his glass of wine, then laughed some more.  Of all the missions he’d ever been on as a Jedi, this seemed the most ludicrous.  And yet, everything made perfect sense.

When he recovered, he realized Si refilled his glass, and Jac sat looking at him with a sense of whimsy, his wine also replenished.

“So,” said Obi-Wan lightly, reaching for one of the snack crackers on the table.  Delicious…complemented the wine nicely.  “How does one do all this?”

Si smiled.  “You need to anticipate the exact moment of your death and willingly give yourself to it, all the while keeping a tight grasp on your matter.”

Obi-Wan listened, taking mental notes, as Darth Silenus explained the process.  Into the afternoon they spoke, when finally something dawned on Obi-Wan. 

“You…when you made this holocron…you were dead,” he said, and Si nodded.

“Yes.  I gave myself to the Force years ago…saved my children, my spouse.  And with my powers, I was able to visit with them.  All save my youngest was Force sensitive…but I found ways to communicate with her.”

Possibilities ran through Obi-Wan’s head.  He could still be a part of Zella’s life!  And maybe figure out a way to talk with Mayli!  His heart felt lighter.

“Then I killed the bastard who killed me,” Si finished, raising an empty glass in a toast.  “Please, eat, drink!  I cannot myself, and it gives me pleasure to watch others enjoy the fruits of my labor.”

The afternoon in the sunny, warm, fragrant winery flew by, Obi-Wan leaving the holocron’s boundaries later feeling a new sense of hope.

Mayli took a moment to glance back at Zella and Sam as she flew the Nebula Flame across the desert toward home. The teens sat behind her in the passenger seats, laughing hard, sharing some private joke about an eopie and a bantha, something they’d seen in town that day.  Previously, Sam entertained both women with a story about a state function he attended with his father, an evening he saw Grand Moff Tarkin return from the ‘fresher with toilet paper on his boot.  His retelling engaging and witty, Mayli found herself liking the young man more and more.

And Zella certainly seemed smitten with him, leaning into him as they talked and laughed.  Mayli sighed sadly, wishing they had more time.  Zella with Sam, who made her so happy during this tragic time.  Mayli with Obi-Wan.  Sam with his mother, who he spoke of a few times with such love.  And of course, Zella with her own father.  Time…if only they had more time.

The Kenobi hillside came into view, and Mayli wondered how the Sith and the Jedi faired during their journey into the holocron.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Obi-Wan regarded the holocron thoughtfully.  Such powerful secrets contained in the cube.  And such a wonderful experience.  After learning about Force Spirits, the three men talked Force philosophy, arguing the afternoon away, Obi-Wan becoming quite drunk on the tasty wine and not caring, simply enjoying good, intellectual conversation.  But when he and Jac emerged from the holocron, the intoxication immediately vanished, leaving Obi-Wan thoughtful.

Something occurred to him, something he should have thought of earlier, but hadn’t in his concern for his own family and himself.  Looking up at Jac, who stared pensively at the table, he asked, “Do you become a Force Spirit?”

Jac looked up, locking eyes with Obi-Wan.  “I don’t know.  I never see my own future,” he stopped abruptly.  “Nor Callie’s.  My visions, for all they are worth, failed me when I needed them the most.”

“How did she die?” Obi-Wan asked quietly.

Jac bit his lip and turned away.  He looked uncharacteristically sad.

“You don’t have to tell…” Obi-Wan began, but Jac interrupted.

“I worked in the labs beneath the palace.  Research…I mentioned this,” Jac said, his voice almost monotone.  “I had to go across world to fetch some diplomat…Sidious asked me the night before.  After dropping him off at a nearby hotel, I reported to the labs late that morning.  When I arrived, several of the apprentices, some the Inquisitors you’ve seen around, were gathered around a table, Sidious amongst them.  This was unusual, as I was the one in charge of the Sith science apprentices, Sidious only showing up on occasion.”

He stopped and took a deep breath.

“Before I got to the table, Sidious moved slowly toward me, a grin on his face.  He told me Vader tracked down another Jedi…after all this time!  And right here, down the street, working at Imperial Human Resources.  After he said this, I knew.  I knew Callie lie on that table.  I knew she was dead.”

He stopped for over a minute, Obi-Wan not daring to talk.  He thought about losing his own love.  Yes, Jac may be a Sith, but he was also a man.

“They had her open, cut…flayed.  Like autopsies we’ve done.  My beautiful…my wife…her body cut up…collecting her organs to study.  How did they differ from others not attune to the Force?  They’d done this before with others Vader caught.  We’d done this…but not with my…my Callie.”

Obi-Wan felt nauseous, thinking about those he may have known in a similar position. 

“I hid my emotions.  Sidious knew she was my wife, but when he asked, I told him I knew she was Force sensitive, but did not know her to be a Jedi.  I hid my anger…pretended to feel betrayed.  Put the anger onto her.  I had to protect our son…he would not become one of Sidious’ pets.  Callie would hate that, as she hated him.  I lied…effectively.  Aside from foresight, lying is my skill.  He bought it…although I think he might have been more distrustful if he hadn’t been distracted by other matters of state…the Rebellion, the Death Star construction and testing,” he paused, then continued, barely at a whisper.  “And the next hour, I directed the dissection of my wife, the preservation of her organs, and the final cremation of her body.  I buried my feelings of disgust, of hatred, and let them burn within me.  Later that evening, I knew what I needed to do.”

Obi-Wan nodded, not saying anything.  Somehow a simple “I’m sorry for your loss” did not seem appropriate.

“She’d been sliced through the shoulder to the heart with Vader’s lightsaber.  Attacked from the back,” Jac said.  “The cause of death.  She had no time to follow Si’s guidelines…no time.”

“She can still come back, like my master,” said Obi-Wan reassuringly.

“Perhaps,” said Jac, now glaring up at Obi-Wan.  “You trained that man, you know.  The man who stabbed my wife in the back.  Darth Vader.  Make sure you finish the job this time.”

“What?”

“Sidious told me about Anakin Skywalker.  About the events on the volcano world,” Jac said, his eyes narrowing, hate now in his voice.  “You could have done the galaxy a huge favor by going back and making sure your padawan was dead before you left.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes shifted back to the table.  Jac had no idea how many times Obi-Wan thought this same thing.  But how could he do such a thing?  He couldn’t bear to watch Anakin burning. 

“He was my brother…my best friend,” he answered. 

“He is no more,” Jac said.  “Anakin Skywalker is dead.  He’s more machine than man.  Trust me.  I’ve been in his presence.  He…he killed my wife.” Jac’s anger dissipated, and he smiled at Obi-Wan.  “But he, like the entire galaxy, is a pawn in a game the Emperor, Darth Sidious, plays.  He needs to be destroyed.  And that destruction begins here.  No, I cannot see my death, but I’m going to make sure it counts.  My death will matter.”

Obi-Wan nodded.  Yes, his death would matter as well.

The sound of a ship caused both men to turn their heads.  The Nebula Flame approach the homestead.

Obi-Wan’s heart began to hurt.  Yes, his death would matter.  However, saying goodbye to his beloved family might break his spirit.

 

**_Author’s Note: In the next, and final, chapter, Jac makes a stunning request of Mayli, and the Kenobi family says farewell._ **

**_Thank you for reading! I would love to hear from some readers.  Please let me know your thoughts.  Take care._ **


	9. The Kenobi Family

**Chapter Nine**

**The Kenobi Family**

The evening following Obi-Wan and Jac’s adventure in the holocron, the two families once again sat down together, this time listening to the Jedi and the Sith explain what they learned from Darth Silenus.  Mayli followed along with a heavy heart.  Obi-Wan explaining how he would become a Force Spirit able to manipulate the world, living on after death.  He seemed excited about this new aspect of his future, but Mayli knew, as someone not sensitive to the Force, that after they parted in a few days, she would never see him again.

            As they cleared the table and Jac and his son prepared to return to their ship, leaving for their own revenge on Palpatine in the morning, Mayli found herself studying Obi-Wan…Ben when she first met him.  For nineteen years she knew this man, his smile, his bright blue eyes, his quick wit and gentle nature.  Following the departure of the Sith, her and Zella were to leave for Chiss space in two days, leaving Obi-Wan behind to his destiny.  Although Mayli knew this inevitable end to their life together meant the downfall of the Empire, she still felt an increasing emptiness.  Yes, he could appear to Zella, converse with her.  And yes, he could visit Mayli…but she would not know, not even sense him.

            In her years with Obi-Wan, she felt no regrets or indignation over being a regular sentient, not Force sensitive…until now.  Their lives could continue after he finished his time with Luke, with Vader, with the Death Star…or at least hers, with his ghost at her side.  Then, she would meet him in the Force…but no, she would not know of him.  No, in two days would be the final time she laid eyes on Obi-Wan Kenobi.

            “Mayli?” said Jac, touching her arm and startling her from her thoughts as she stood in the kitchen, putting dishes away.  “A word.  Please?”

            The sincerity in his voice, rarely heard as he always either seemed to be leering or joking, caught her off guard, and she stepped from the house to the garden, leaving Obi-Wan and the kids to clean up.

            “I have a monumental favor to ask of you,” Jac began, his face half lit in the dark of the evening by the illumination coming from within the homestead.

            “Well, you’ve already come to take my mate.  Want my daughter now?” she asked sarcastically.

            “On the contrary,” Jac said, his voice quiet, steady, his face falling slightly, betraying to her his real emotions.  “I…I want to ask you to take my son with you to Chiss space.”

            Mayli could feel her jaw drop.  “What?!  Sam?”

            “Yes.  I…I fear I will not be coming back.  I do not know.  I cannot see my future, as I could not see Callie’s fate.  But the places I am going, the things I plan to do…I do not want Sam to die,” Jac said, stepping forward and taking Mayli by both shoulders gently, his trembling hands gripping her. “I love my son.  Sidious will not take him too.” Tears now escaped his eyes, and Mayli found his vulnerability shocking.  “Please, Mayli.  You are our only hope.”

            Mayli could not find words.  Of course she would take Sam, would never let a child be left behind.  And she found that she understood this Jac completely, perhaps for the very first time.  This man, part of the group that had done evil, killed her friend, sent her into hiding, proved himself to be human after all, loving and caring for his son enough to let him go.

            Jac reached into his pocket and pulled out three data chips, thrusting them into Mayli’s hands.  “Bank accounts.  Large ones.  From my original inheritance from the Scholars.  I used only another major account, will use that for my travels…for the…well, the end.  But this, this will keep Sammy comfortable for several years…and beyond!  His children and their children and…” He stopped, now openly crying.  “And you and Zella!  Pay for her school, buy a nice home, luxuries…

            “I will take Sam,” she said, her voice surprisingly level, but she moved the data chips back to his hand.  “But keep this blood money…”

            Jac pushed the account chips back.  “Use it for your lives.  For life!  I am taking your husband away.  I am sacrificing myself!  This will be wasted.  Take it!  Take it as payment for the life I took from you.”

            His words startled her and she automatically looked back at the home she’d built with Obi-Wan in their nearly two decades together.  She’d originally come to Tatooine to hide from Jac and the other Scholars and ended up staying, finding love, a life.  In a strange way, Jac had not taken away her life but given her one.

            But now he pulled her into an embrace, his lips near her ear. 

            “Thank you,” he breathed, then pulled away, moving toward the house with purpose.

            Zella listened as her father questioned Sam about his Force gift, his talent of seeing with his hands.  He spoke to the younger man about a few Jedi he’d known with similar gifts, nothing as strong, but she noticed the fact others had come before seemed to reassure Sam.

            Suddenly, Jac burst into the house, Zella’s mother behind, looking stricken.  Now what, Zella thought.

            But Sam seemed to know instantly.  He jumped to his feet, approaching his father angrily.

            “No!  No, I won’t!  You cannot!”

            “Sam, go unpack you things from our ship and move them over to Mayli’s and…”

            Zella glanced over at her mother, but she was whispering to her father.  Was Sam coming with them?  Of course this made sense, as his father was heading out on a mission on which he would probably die.  Zella felt slightly embarrassed.  She’s thought so much of her own plight of losing her father she did not consider Sam and his father.  Tragic Sammy, who just lost his mother and would soon lose his father.

            “No!  I am coming with you!” Sam shouted, balling up his fists, his voice perhaps a little higher pitched than he would have wanted Zella to hear.

            “That is the end of this conversation.  You will not come with me.  This is where we part ways.  Now come down the hill and move your things to the Nebula Flame,” Jac said firmly, his stern demeanor betrayed by his devastation echoing through the Force around the room.

            “I…I’ll go down and open up the ship for you, Sam,” said Zella’s mother, and her and Jac disappeared into the night.

            Sam remained frozen in the middle of their living room, anger pouring from him.  Zella looked at her father for guidance, and he rose, approaching the younger man.

            “Sam, listen.  Your father is doing the right thing here and…”

            Turning toward the Jedi, Sam’s face contorted in rage, his handsome features suddenly sinister.  “How do you know?  You are abandoning your family as well!  And I am trained!  I want to kill him too!  He took my mother!  And now…now…” and then a scream of rage came from Sam, startling Mayli.  Sam walked over to the dining room table, smashing his hand down upon it, shattering the wood into a pile of sticks.  Finally, he fell to his knees and sobbed.

            Before she knew what she was doing, Zella kneeled beside him.  “Sam, I’m angry too.  But…” she paused, glancing back at her father, who regarded her with warmth as he knelt down next to the young man as well.  “This is for our fathers to take care of, now.  We…we’re just starting out.  We have our time ahead of us.  Come to Chiss with my mom and I.  Come to school with me.  And we can work together to train in the Force, perhaps train pupils of our own someday.  That is what we have to do.”

            She placed her hand on his shoulder, her father doing the same on the other side, and she felt Sam’s body sag in grief and acceptance. 

            “I need to take a walk,” he said finally, getting up and moving toward the door.  He paused, looking back.  “I’m sorry about the table.”

            Zella watched her father smile, then laugh jovially.  “Trust me, my boy.  That is not the first time a table has been destroyed in the Kenobi household.”

            Sam simply nodded, then disappeared into the night.

            Zella looked at her father.  “I’m angry too,” she said.

            “I know,” he said.  “And you have a right to be.”  He walked over and pulled her into an embrace, and they stood together for a long time in silence.  “Do something good with your anger.  Don’t let it pull you to the Dark Side.  Let it pull you to the Light, to doing the right thing.  To making a positive change.”

            An hour later, Obi-Wan walked with Zella down to the two ships parked at the bottom of the hill on which the Kenobi homestead stood.  The night sky lit up with stars, Obi-Wan wondered what it would be like to fly through the galaxy again amongst them, rather than simply regarding them from afar.  He’d become more familiar with the night sky of Tatooine than any other place he’d ever been.  Interesting indeed, since he remembered the first time he set foot on the planet, not intending to spend more than a few days, never knowing he would live here for a large portion of his life.

            The end of his life.

            He shuddered at the thought, but pushed it aside as he and Zella arrived at the two ships.  Jac and Mayli stood outside, Jac looking troubled.

            “Where is Sam?” he asked.

            “He never came down?” Obi-Wan said, puzzled.

            Jac shook his head.  “No…and I need to leave.  We moved everything over.  All his belongings…but…” Jac walked up to Obi-Wan with an outstretched hand.  “Thank you, Jedi.  Best of luck.”

            “Thank you,” Obi-Wan said.  “You are, by far, the most interesting Sith I have ever encountered.  Full of contradictions.”

            Jac laughed, his eyes still shifting around, looking for his son.  “I admire your commitment to the well-being of this galaxy.  I sacrifice myself for vengeance, you for the well-being of others.”

            “I’m not so sure about that,” Obi-Wan admitted.  “And you might not be completely selfish.”

            Jac shrugged, then gave a final glance around.  “Well, thank you again.  Farewell and good…”

            “Dad!” came Sam’s voice from the dark, and the younger man emerged, walked right up to his father for a tight embrace.  Separating after several moments, Jac smiled at his son, turned, and walked into the yacht, closing the ramp behind him without further word.  The four remaining watched the ship take the skies, disappearing into the heavens, becoming just another point of light.  A sense of finality came over Obi-Wan; he would be watching the Nebula Flame take off in just two days.

            And those two days flew by.  The Kenobi home emptied of everything except the bare essentials he would need for his final days in solitude, as well as the holocron he hid for Luke’s eventual finding, if Anakin’s son made it here after the destruction of the Death Star.

            Soon…too soon…Obi-Wan stood before his mate and daughter as they prepared to leave Tatooine for the final time.  Sam already boarded the ship, sensing the family’s need for an intimate moment.

            Zella approached him first, hugging him hard.

            “I’ll see you again,” she said, her words not a question but a statement.  “Just…don’t make it too long, okay daddy?”

            “I love you, little one,” he said, trying to keep his voice from a sob.  “May the Force be with you.  Always.”

            Zella stood back, her eyes rimmed with tears.  “And you.  I love you.”  She turned, entering the ship.

            Obi-Wan finally turned to Mayli, and he flashed back to the moment they first met, her glaring down at him, a blaster pointed at his head.  He remembered their first dinner out, at the steakhouse in Water, their times with friends at Jabba’s, her rescuing him from the Scholars, the first time they made love, trapped for days because of a sandstorm.  Thousands of little moments flooded his mind as he wrapped her in his arms and pressed his face into her warm, soft hair.

            “I love you, darling,” he said.  “This is not farewell.  I will see you again.”

            She pulled back, putting her hands on his cheeks.  “But will I see you?” she whispered.

            “I will find a way to let you know I am there,” he assured her, knowing she feared this, for he himself desperately wanted to return to her, his Mayli, his beloved.

            “Then this is not good-bye,” she said, her composure returning, and she stepped back, squared her shoulders, and gave him her usual, confident smile.  “And remember, if you need to get off world quickly…”

            “Look for Han Solo.  But deal with the Wookie Chewbacca first,” Obi-Wan said.

            “The ship may look like a piece of junk, but I can vouch for its quality Corellian manufacturing,” she said, then her confidence broke again.  “I love you, Ben.  Return to me so we can join the Force together.”

            “Yes,” was all he could manage without breaking down again.  He pulled her back into his arms for a long, slow kiss.  “May the Force be with you, my love.”

            “Until we meet again, Ben Kenobi” she said wistfully, then turned, walked up the ramp of the Nebula Flame, and closed the doors.

            Obi-Wan watched the ship disappear and lingered, his gaze towards the sky, for over an hour.  He only moved from his watch when his neck began to ache.

            Alone again.  Solitude.  Like his first hundred days on Tatooine.  But for how long this time?   

A week passed before Obi-Wan sensed a notable change in the Force.  A great tide shifted one morning as he sat in meditation, and soon, tangible evidence of the change could be seen in the skies in the increased TIE fighter patrols.  Something was happening.

Obi-Wan studied the Death Star plans, committing everything to memory, opening up aspects of the Force he hadn’t used in years to make sure he understood the design flaw in the reactor core, the changes the later contractors made, how he could bring down the shields.  His mind kept drifting to the moment he would disappear, die.  Would he know this moment, be able to gather together his matter, his energy, as Darth Silenus discussed?  Everything hinged on Obi-Wan feeling the moment in the Force.  But of course, Jac saw Obi-Wan disappear…didn’t that mean success?

Increased TIE patrols, sometimes stopping in the distance, stormtroopers emerging to walk the sands of the Jundland Wastes.  Obi-Wan spied on them from his hilltop with his scope.  Yes, the time for him to leave was coming.  But how would this proceed?

Then one day, late morning, as Obi-Wan sat on the top of his hill, munching one of the final cookies in a batch Mayli made for him before her departure, his eye caught a small band of Tusken Raiders making their way across the sand.  He rose swiftly, as if pulled to his feet by the Force.

“I need to follow them,” he said aloud to no one.

Donning his sand robes and grabbing a few essentials, he began to move from his homestead to trail the Sand People as they trekked across Tatooine.

 

**_Author’s Note: Next time, an epilogue shows us Obi-Wan’s journey as a Force Spirit._ **

**_And I have a new story in the works, to be published when I am finished with this and my other tale, Another Galaxy.  Here’s a preview of Raised in Darkness:_ **

**_When Padme decides to join Anakin on his journey to the Dark Side, the Skywalker twins grow up under very different circumstances.  Now, twenty years later, Vader begins to make his bid at power against Sidious, and Leia and Luke must decide their places in the galaxy.  Vader versus Sidious.  Eventual canon/EU friendships and romances.  Drama, romance, humor, and angst._ **

**_Hope you will continue to read and enjoy my work.  Take care, everyone!_ **


	10. Epilogue: Tatooine Sunsets

**Epilogue**

**Tatooine Sunsets**

_The Death Star_

            Obi-Wan Kenobi’s eyes flew open.  He lay on his back, looking up at metal conduit, listening to the hum of machinery. 

            Disoriented, he took a moment to collect himself.  The last thing he remembered was facing Darth Vader, a half-hearted duel that ended when he sensed the moment of his death in the Force, and, as Darth Silenus advised, he gave himself into it.  But had it worked?  Was he now a Force Spirit?

            Bringing his right hand above him, he found his body had a shimmering blue quality about it, like Qui-Gon’s when he visited years ago.  And the Force…the Force now felt like it was him…or he was it…or…

            But was he a spirit who could manipulate the environment, make physical change in reality?  He moved his head to the side, seeing he lay on some sort of catwalk in the mechanisms of the Death Star.  The narrow walkway was flanked by metal panels.  Bringing his hand against the wall with force, his palm touched the metal and a banging sound reverberated through the space. 

            Yes!  He’d done it!

            But sitting up, Obi-Wan noticed he’d failed to bring his clothing with him.  He sat in the mechanism of the Death Star, completely nude.  He began to laugh, remembering Jac’s comments, Darth Silenus’ teasing.  The odd ecstasy of the moment, of death, of becoming one with the Force, overcame him, and he sat in gleeful laughter for nearly a minute before he brought his hand over his mouth, stopping himself.  Others with Force sensitivity would see him, hear him.  And he knew of one such sentient aboard the Death Star.

            He thought back to moments ago, when he’d faced Anakin for the first time in nineteen years.  No…no longer Anakin.  He could sense very little of his former friend, and what little he did sense of the former Jedi felt warped.  No, Darth Vader killed Anakin Skywalker, as he told Luke.

            Luke…Han…Chewbacca…yes, he saw them escaping, with Leia.  And he had work to do before the Rebel fleet arrived to take out the Death Star.  Rising, he looked around, assessing his location.  Yes, the core, the new shields…to the left.  He began to walk, but stopped, chuckling again.  Clothing.  What would Darth Vader or some other hapless Force sensitive think seeing a naked old man walking around the Death Star?

            Concentrating hard, he manipulated the Force, envisioning himself in the garments he’d left on the floor in front of Vader.  Looking down, he saw he’d been able to manifest a brown sand robe but only that.  He sighed.

            “Good enough for the moment,” he said to himself, cinching the robe around his bare torso and walking barefoot to his destination.

_Dagobah_

Sitting across from Yoda on a log in the dank and dreary swamps of Dagobah, Obi-Wan realized he got the better end of the exile deal.  Of course, he’d heard from Mayli and Zella about Yoda’s home, but actually being here made him thankful for the often blistering suns of Tatooine.

            “Interesting and helpful this Sith turned out to be,” Yoda said, nodding, Obi-Wan having just finished his story of Jac, the holocron, his adventures with Luke.

            But Obi-Wan had trouble concentrating.  He longed to project himself to Chiss space, to Mayli, to Zella.  But he had work to finish here.

            “More training the boy needs,” Yoda said.  “Bring him here you must.”

            “Huh?” asked Obi-Wan, finally refocusing on Yoda.  He sat pondering how he’d even arrived on Dagobah.  He simply appeared.  How much time had passed since the destruction of the Death Star?  He’d seen it from afar, and then he was here.  He remembered Qui-Gon often being disoriented.  Would he simply fade away before seeing his beloved again?

            Yoda reached out his small hand, placing it on Obi-Wan’s knee.  “Soon.  Join your family you will, Obi-Wan.  Ask just a few more things of you I do.”

            Obi-Wan smiled warmly, grateful for Yoda’s understanding.

_Endor_

Happiness filled Obi-Wan as he watched the celebration on Endor, the second Death Star’s remains still falling to the forest moon in shots of fire.  Anakin’s two children, finally together.  The Ewoks, one he’d glimpsed years ago when on this world with Mayli, hosting the celebration.  Han, Chewbacca, the pilots recommended by Mayli, now in the fold of friendship, no longer faring the hyperlanes alone.  And the Rebellion, celebrating victory, the deaths of Palpatine and Vader.  Obi-Wan grieved for those he knew who perished, like himself, in the fight, Bail, who he’d never laugh with again.  Yoda, who…

            “Success we have, hmmm Master Kenobi?” came a familiar voice beside him.

            Obi-Wan looked down to see Yoda, in Force Spirit form, beside him.  Leaning down, Obi-Wan embraced the Jedi Master, feeling his solidity.  Yes, he’d achieved Darth Silenus’ status as well. 

            Standing together watching the party, Obi-Wan noticed Luke look over in recognition, at the same moment he felt another presence. 

            Anakin.

            His Force Spirit weaker, having not had the knowledge of Jac’s holocron for himself, nevertheless, Anakin stood within feet from Obi-Wan, and he turned to smile at him.

            Obi-Wan’s mind spun.  The Chosen One…yes, Anakin did bring balance to the Force.  Obi-Wan spent years in exile doubting, but the prophecy came to be. 

            But Obi-Wan simply shrugged to himself.  Who cared, really?  He wanted to go away.  To Mayli and Zella.  He’d done his duty. 

            But Anakin approached, looking not much older than the day he turned to the Dark Side.  Obi-Wan felt a slight bitterness pass over him.  How could Anakin be younger and he stuck as an old man?

            “Obi-Wan, I…”Anakin began.

            “No need for words now,” said Obi-Wan, raising his hand to stop Anakin.  He didn’t want to get into a long conversation.  He’d said his good-bye to Anakin years ago.  The sudden urgency to see his daughter and his mate again surged in him.

            “But Master, I have so much to say, so many things to make amends…”

            But he was gone, Obi-Wan now drifting pleasantly through the realm in-between time and space, life and death. 

            Zella.  Mayli.

_Chiss Space_

Moments passed.  Or was it years?  But now Obi-Wan opened his eyes to find himself sitting at a café on a sunny day, young people of multiple species bustling around him, the chatter of a dozen different languages reaching his ears.

            He focused across from him, and his whole being felt numb with awe.  A beautiful woman sat reading, her reddish blonde hair long and shimmering in the sunlight.  She looked up slowly, her deep blue eyes locking with his.  She gasped.

            “Daddy,” she whispered.

            “Zella.  Little one,” Obi-Wan barely said, emotion taking over. 

            “You’re…you’re back,” she said, leaning across the table and grabbing his hand.  “The holocron…it worked!”

            Obi-Wan nodded.

            Zella smiled broadly, speaking louder.  “I heard.  I heard about the fall of the Empire.  I knew you were there, helping.  And now…” but she stopped, looking around at the few people staring.  To them, it looked as if she was talking to no one.

            Obi-Wan laughed.  “I will go to your mother…is she nearby?”

            Zella nodded, leaning in to whisper again, trying not to get curious looks.  “She owns a parts and repair shop in the neighboring village, just east of the university.  Lives above the garage.  Sammy and I were going there for dinner tonight after Professor Thrawn’s art lecture and…”

            “Zella, baby.  C’mon, we’re gonna be late,” came a man’s voice from behind Obi-Wan.  Zella’s eyes rose to look behind her father and Obi-Wan turned around.

            Sam, Jac’s son, froze as he approached the table.  A grown man, handsome, his dark hair still a floppy mess atop his head, he moved to the table swiftly after the moment’s pause.

            “Master Kenobi…” he stammered.  “You…you did it!”

            Obi-Wan rose as his daughter did.

            “Good to see you, Sam,” he said.

            “Um…my father…have you…have you seen him?” the young man asked.

            Obi-Wan just shook his head.

            Sam looked devastated, but Obi-Wan watched him brighten slightly as Zella took his hand and kissed his cheek.

            The daughter of a Jedi and the son of a Sith.  Well, as Jac said, this will certainly be interesting.  But Obi-Wan didn’t feel threatened by this at all.  He felt a deep love radiating off the two of them toward each other, the same he’d felt for Mayli.

            Mayli.

            “I will be there this evening.  When you come, we can catch up.  I go now,” he said, and before he could say any farewells, he stood facing a large hanger flanked by several small garages.  A sign reading “Kenobi Parts and Repair” hung over the door leading to the office. 

            Mayli was within.  He felt her presence.  Swallowing hard, anticipation filling him, he moved through the door without opening it.

            Several mechanics bustled around, getting assignments from someone seated at a table, someone he could not see.  But it was her, he knew it, felt it.

            The mechanics disappeared to the different hangers and garages, leaving the woman alone at the table.  Mayli, looking only a little older, her long silver hair hanging around her as she read from her data pad, muttering to herself as she entered some figures.  If Obi-Wan’s heart still beat, it may have stopped in that moment.

            He moved toward the table, but a mechanic burst in, looking frantic.

            “Ms. Kenobi…the Fels just brought in two transports, saying they need them immediately, but I already have two ships…”

            Mayli looked up at the stammering young man.  “Bump them ‘til later.  The Fels are our largest contract.”

            The man nodded and disappeared, Mayli going back to her work.

            “You finally took my name,” Obi-Wan said aloud.

            Mayli kept reading.

            “Please hear me, my love.  Please,” he said, almost shouting, standing right next to her.

            She stopped, looking up and around as if she heard something.  Reaching toward her, he ran his finger through her hair, causing her to yelp and leap to her feet.

            “Ben?” she whispered.

            “Yes!” he yelled, but she showed no signs of hearing him.  He looked around, frantic, then smiled, seeing an old music player in the corner.  Rushing over, he fiddled with the device until he found the selection he wanted: a Max Rebo love song, one they’d danced to at the artist’s concert years ago.

            The song began, and he turned back to Mayli, who stared in his direction, her hand over her heart, tears streaming down her face.  He moved over to her, wrapping her in an embrace and moving around the office with her in a slow dance, knowing that although she couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him, she could feel him, and that mattered. 

            He haunted her the rest of her days, until she joined him in the Force. 

The End

 

**“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.**

**“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times.  But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”**

**_From The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien_ **

**_Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading my Tatooine Trilogy.  I’ve been working on these stories for over a year, and I’m sad to be leaving Obi-Wan behind.  Still, I have another Star Wars story in the works, posted soon, so please check back with me.  And please let me know what you thought of this final Tatooine tale.  Thank you so much for reading.  May the Force be with you…always._ **


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